


High

by MotherofBulls



Series: High [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Recreational Drug Use, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 60,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9672791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherofBulls/pseuds/MotherofBulls
Summary: He started as an outlet for her. Somewhere along the way he became something more. But being the Brightest Witch of Her Age, Hermione knows something is lurking below the surface.COMPLETE!





	1. First Timers

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfiction! This story is pretty cliche 6th year, but I wanted to explore the interpersonal relationships between the characters more than dig into specific plot points and just let them be teenagers.

“You guys are out of your fucking minds.” Ron and Harry merely laughed at her declaration. A lot. Like…ripping their guts out laughter. “Oh, great. You guys are high.”

Hermione might have been the Brightest Witch of Her Age, but she was also the daughter of “intellectual” Muggles. Her parents, though dentists, occasionally smoked with friends—various pseudo-intellectual types who would every so often get together and engage in light drug use, so as to reclaim a portion of their youth. In an act of rebellion, she had snuck into her parents’ stash a few times to see what the fuck the fuss was all about.

She didn’t _really_ like it. It burned her throat and the smell was just awful. But she couldn’t help but feel mildly jealous at how much Harry and Ron seemed to enjoy their botanical experiment. When she entered their dorm, she did not expect to find Harry and Ron lying on their backs on the floor, rocking back and forth, rubbing their faces and attempting to sing “I Believe in A Thing Called Love” in tandem.

“Where did you even _get_ weed?”

Harry attempted to feign innocence and shrugged, his laughter threatening to resurface.

Ron answered in an overly formal ton, “What weed?”

“The weed you both reek of! It was Dean wasn’t it? He sold it to you.” Her fellow Muggleborn Gryffindor chum was always bemoaning the lack of an equivalent ‘recreational plant’ in the wizarding world and bragging about his ‘connections.’ From what Hermione could smell, it wasn’t very good weed they had been smoking. Although she wasn’t overly fond of the drug, she could appreciate the difference between pot that had been procured by adults with expendable incomes and that which had been purchased by a sixteen-year-old with his paltry allowance from some seedy kid in a Tesco parking lot.

“Hey don’t you mean ‘weed of which you both reek'?” Harry responded with a shit-eating grin worthy of the Ferret himself. “Ppppsssshhh!!!!!!!!!!” Both Harry and Ron exploded in teary laughter once again.

“You’re both idiots.” Hermione muttered, deciding to relocate to Someplace Else. On her way down to the Common Room, she encountered a familiar face on the stairwell. “Dean, any idea why Harry and Ron would eat an entire carton of Chocolate Frogs while making rug angels on the floor of the boys’ dorm?”

Dean narrowed his eyes at the brunette witch. The two had always had a sort of friendship based upon their shared Muggle heritage. They ripped on each other’s favorite bands and shared knowing glances and eye rolls whenever a classmate displayed an embarrassing ignorance of Muggle references.

“I sold Harry an eighth. Probably something to do with that. Don’t tell me they smoked it all already.”

“Go look. I’d hazard a guess they did. You know they’ve never done that before, Dean. Why didn’t you tell them not to smoke it all in one sitting?”

“I don’t know, Hermione. I’ve never educated anyone in marijuana safety before. Don’t tell me you’re mad that I held out on you” he leered.

“I really _don’t_ care, but we were all supposed to go to Hogsmeade together today. There’s no way they’re going anywhere.”

“If they smoked that much pot in less than an hour, they _need_ to take a walk.”

The two marched back up to the boys’ dorm and dragged Harry and Ron, kicking and screaming to the Common Room.

“HEEEEEEEEEEELLLLPPP!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! FUUUUUUCK NOOOOOOOO!!!” Ron bellowed.

“Shut the fuck up, Ronald! I’m barely touching you. You’re actually moving yourself.” Hermione snarked.

“Shite! Yeah. I’m an octopus. I can move across the ocean. But not like the deep ocean, just the part with the little fish.”

Hermione and Dean shared an eye roll and a smirk over Ron’s nonsensical ravings. “Okay, Ronald. How would you like to go to Honeydukes? How does that sound?” Hermione asked in the sort of tone usually reserved for a helpless five-year-old. She really only called him “Ronald” when she was either cross with him or she wanted something from him. It oddly worked under both circumstances.

Both Harry and Ron brightened at this suggestion and ran to the entrance of the Common Room. “Can we stop at the kitchens first? I would kill for a bacon sandwich. With strawberry jam!” Harry suggested.

“You broke my friends, Thomas,” Hermione dead-panned.

_________________________________

Honeydukes was an absolute disaster. Harry and Ron had _no_ sense of subtlety. When they weren’t rampaging through the store like a couple of drunken Hippogriffs with low blood sugar, they were standing in the corner, wide-eyed and manic, convinced that every single person in Honeydukes knew they were high.

“Of course everyone knows, you dolts! As if the giggling and the prattling weren’t enough, you’re not exactly whispering!”

It would be so much easier to find Ginny and Dean and just leave Harry and Ron to their own devices. But as much as she didn’t fancy the prospect of spending the afternoon listening to Harry and Ron perform what they thought were genius, spot-on impersonations of Snape, but what were in reality just them docking points from Gryffindor in their own slightly deeper voices while eating through Honeydukes bags the size of Hagrid’s pumpkins, she couldn’t quite bring herself to abandon them. After all, it was February and, considering the fact that they weren’t likely to find their way back to Hogwarts without her, they might die of exposure.

They allowed themselves to be led to an abandoned-ish bench in a quiet-ish corner of the town so that they didn’t disturb too many people.

“Hermione! Harry! Ron!” a familiar voice rang through the street.

“Ginny! Thank Merlin, a sober face.” Hermione beamed at the youngest Weasley, accompanied by Dean.

“I see it hasn’t worn off yet,” Dean observed.

“Oh this? This is nothing. You should have been here earlier when they both escaped to look for their shoes.”

“They lost their shoes?” Ginny inquired.

“No.”

“You know, maybe they wouldn’t seem so bad if you were stoned too.” Ginny suggested. “I mean…I’ve never smoked pot either.”

Dean’s eyes widened at his girlfriend. “Seriously! Neither you or Hermione have ever gotten high?”

“I never said that.”

Silence.

“You know…I’ve never really appreciated Acid Pops before…but they’re _good_!” Ron’s non-sequitur proclamation prompted a series of vigorous nods from Harry.

“Wait…let me get this straight. Straight ‘O’, prefect, future Head Girl Hermione Granger has smoked pot?” Dean asked incredulously. “ _How_?”

“I filched it from my parents.”

“I’m disinclined to believe you.”

“Oh yeah? Well maybe I’m _disinclined_ to want to smoke the skank that you sold these two shit-for-brains, since you obviously don’t know the difference between quality and ditchweed!” Hermione huffed.

Dean was taken aback. “Hold on a second! That’s premium shit there. I mean…just look at them!”

Harry and Ron were both staring into the distance, unblinking, mouths agape. They obviously hadn’t been following the conversation and there was no indication that they realized that Dean and Ginny had joined them. Ron was beginning to drool.

“It was their first time smoking. They smoked a whole dime bag for fuck’s sake!”

“Alright, alright. If you’re such an expert, why don’t you prove it? I’ve got about an eighth on me right now. We’ll see how it affects you.”

Images of school assemblies flooded Hermione’s memory. Teachers in silly mascots pushing drug-free agendas, assuring the students that they can “just say no” to peer pressure. But she was a seventeen-year-old woman who could make her own decisions. It wasn’t even like it was her first time trying it. She recalled how jealous she had been earlier that day at how Harry and Ron seemed so relaxed and care free. She had been working very hard lately. She deserved to act like a teenager for once and do something stupid.

“Sure, whatever.” She responded with, what she hoped was an air of casual boredom.

Dean beamed, pulling a bag and some rolling papers out of his jacket. “Let’s see if my ‘ditchweed’ lives up to your expectations.”


	2. Foot in Mouth

“Oh my god. I just realized I could do something cool. Know what it is? Know what my cool thing is?” Ginny was a charming stoner. “I can turn my taste buds on and off. Watch!” Ginny alternated between tensing and relaxing her facial muscles.

“Oh I see, babe. You’re amazing!” Dean responded, delighted at his genius girlfriend.

“Lemme see.” Hermione demanded. Ginny once again displayed her newfound talent. “Hmmm. I don’t see it.” Hermione murmured, a little sad.

They made an interesting picture, the five of them laying on their backs behind the Three Broomsticks. It was Hermione’s idea that they go ‘stargazing’. Never mind that it was three in the afternoon.

“Hey. You know what’s weird?” Hermione addressed the group. “Wizards are like…awesome. Like…they can _do_ stuff. They can wipe people’s memories and make things fly. You think they’d find a better way to write stuff down. Like…quills kind of _suck_ , you know. You have to buy ink and shit. Like…why don’t they just invent a quill that never runs out of ink, and that like…fits in your pocket?”

“You mean like an ink pen?” Harry asked.

“No Harry. No. Oh-my-god-you’re-so-high-right-now. You don’t even know.” Hermione pinched her nose in frustration. “Because ink pens run out of ink eventually. They should invent something like an ink pen, but it never runs out of ink.”

“Hermione. That’s. Fucking. Brilliant.” Ron gaped. “You’re going to be so rich, Hermione. I can’t even handle it.”

“Hey rich girl. This weed wasn’t skank was it? S’good, right?” Dean turned to Hermione.

“My parents smoke way better stuff. Like now…I don’t even feel it. I don’t even feel my face.”

“Psh. Rich girl.” Dean muttered.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” a familiar drawl announced the presence of a _very unwelcome_ guest.

“Fuck! It’s Fucking Ferret! Go away Fucking Ferret!” Harry rallied.

“What is this? Two Weasels, two Mudbloods, and one Chosen Git getting drunk in the middle of the day? Tsk, tsk. I wouldn’t have thought that Granger could dislodge the broomstick from her arse long enough to do something bad. You know, as a prefect, I’m going to have to deduct points from Gryffindor for this?” Malfoy happily announced.

“What? That’s fucking _untrue_. You can’t just deduct points when we’re away from school grounds.” Hermione jumped to her feet to face the blond wizard.

“Even when you’re toasted you can still recite school rules. _Pathetic_ Granger.”

“Fuck you, Ferret! For your information, none of us have had even a drop of alcohol. So joke’s on you!” Hermione promptly laughed, falling back to the ground. Her four friends joined in laughter.

Malfoy watched, confused, as this went on for some time. He felt as though he had walked into an alternate reality where he didn’t understand the form of humor. Or this was some reference to an inside joke which only Gryffindors found hilarious.

Fucking Gryffindors. As a collective they were, without a doubt, the stupidest people at Hogwarts, Granger or no Granger. And that was saying something, as he had hung around Crabbe and Goyle for six years.

“You guys are out of your fucking minds.” Draco muttered, bored with the silly Gryffindors and their ridiculous, unsophisticated senses of humor.

More laughter. “Oh my god! That’s what Hermione said this morning to us, right Harry! When she found us in the dorm and we were high!”

“ _Exactly like that_! Hey, Ron! Hey…Ron! Who am I? ‘You guys are out of your fucking minds.’” Harry drawled in a deep voice that was meant to be either Hermione or Draco, but actually just sounded like Harry with a deeper voice. At that, all five of the Gryffindors lost their minds.

“I…..ah-ha…don’t…sound…like that!” Hermione struggled to breath. “But that’s the Ferret spot on!”

Draco was confused. One, no that did not fucking sound anything like him, and two, what the fuck did Weaselby mean by “when we were high”? Were they flying around on their broomsticks in their dorm? And what was so funny?

“Shhhh!!! Don’t tell the Ferret we’re high!” Ginny loudly whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “He’ll _know_ we were smoking pot.”

 _Smoking pot_? Draco thought. As a pureblood, Draco knew nothing about the recreational drugs used by Muggles. His confused countenance must have given away his confusion, as Hermione proceeded to laugh even louder.

Draco had never seen the Gryffindor girl so affected by anything. The most emotion he had ever seen her display was when she punched him in third year. He searched his memory and could not think of a single instance when he had seen her laugh. She smiled often enough he supposed, but laughter? A bit too pedestrian for someone as pragmatic as Granger. As if he wasn’t confused enough already!

“Hey Thomas! Thomas. Thomas, I don’t think Malfoy knows what ‘pot’ is.” Hermione turned to Dean. “You should sell to the Slytherins! They all could use it.”

“Haha! Yeah. The Slytherins. Slllytherinsss. It even _sounds_ like a snake. Does Gryffindor sound like a lion? Gryyffindooor!!!” Dean experimented.

“I totally hear it, babe. You’re so good at that.” Ginny said, gazing adoringly at her boyfriend.

“Totally. Okay, okay, do Hufflepuff next Thomas. Does it sound like something a badger would say? Wait…do badgers even talk much?” Hermione mused, her eyes narrowing.

“What did I do wrong, Hermione?” Dean looked like a wounded puppy.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

Dean responded, “Hermione, you only use surnames when you’re cross with that person. Or if you just don’t like them. Like Snape, or—“

“MALFOY!” Hermione interjected, causing a ripple effect of laughter through the group once again.

“I love all you guys so much.” Ginny said.

“What the _actual_ fuck is this?” Malfoy demanded. “The rest of you guys, fine. Whatever. You’re all idiots anyway, but why is _Granger_ acting so stupid?”

“Hit that and find out” Dean handed a joint to Draco.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” he drew himself up haughtily.

“It makes you _relax_ , Malfoy. You could use it. I think _you’re_ the one with a broomstick up your arse,” Hermione said.

Draco recoiled at her words. On the one hand, he didn’t exactly _love_ it when anyone spoke to him like that…especially Granger, but then again she wasn’t exactly wrong.

This had been the worst year of his life, bar none. He barely ate, slept little, and worried constantly about his mother, whom the Dark Lord had threatened to kill if he didn’t fulfil his task to fix the Vanishing Cabinet and kill Dumbledore. Throw into the mix the fact that he was struggling in his classes and hadn’t gotten laid in months, and you had a spectacularly shit year.

These Gryffindorks might have been a pack of obnoxious, prattling air-heads, but they all looked so…happy.

Eh, fuck it.

“What do I do with this?” Draco asked, almost timidly.

Hermione laughed. That damn laugh again. “You put it to your mouth and suck. Then you sort of swallow the smoke to inhale and breathe out through your nose.”

 _Put it to_   _your mouth, suck, and swallow_. Draco couldn’t resist. “Really, Granger? Why don’t you show me how to put it to my mouth and suck? Since you’re apparently so good at it.”

“Haha!!! _Yeah_ she is.” Ron contributed.

Silence. Hermione immediately sobered and turned bright red.

She and Ron had fooled around a few times at the beginning of the year. They had both admitted their feelings toward one another and it seemed like everything was finally falling into place for them. But something wasn’t quite right. Hermione realized that she just didn’t fancy him the way she thought she did. She didn’t burn for him. She didn’t ache. So she couldn’t find it in herself to go further with Ron.

It wasn’t that she was a virgin. She had lost her virginity to Viktor Krum during fifth year. But she couldn’t use her best friend like some tawdry piece of man-meat just to break his heart later. So she put an end to it. He was upset for a while, but soon found forgetfulness in the arms of Lavender Brown. Aside from the fact that Lavender could be a bit of a bint at times, she actually thought they made a decent couple.

Draco guffawed at Ron’s admission. _Who would have thought that Gryffindor's Golden Girl likes to get high and suck cock? Not such a little prude after all, is she_?

“ _Wow_ Granger. I really didn’t think you could sink any lower. Slumming it with a _Weasley_. You walk around all prim and proper, looking down your nose at everyone, but you’re just a little tart aren’t you?” Draco was rather pleased with himself.

Hermione, on the other hand, was mortified. She and Ron agreed that they would never tell anyone what had passed between them. All it took was an afternoon of recreational drug use and Ron was spilling their sexual history to _Malfoy_ of all people!

“How _dare_ you? You’re one to talk! If the rumors about you are true, you’re the biggest slag at Hogwarts!” Hermione stood up and faced the blond, her eyes narrowed into slits and her breath coming out in shallow bursts. “You have _no_ standards whatsoever. You fucked _Pansy Parkinson_ , that pug-faced little shrew for Merlin’s sake! You’ll use _anyone_ to get your dick wet!”

The group looked up at the exchange between the two. It was really a bit of a kill-joy. Ron appeared to have no idea that he said anything wrong.

“No standards? Well that’s apparently not true since I never laid a hand on you, did I Mudblood? But maybe I should have, since you’re apparently _so good_ at sucking co—“

The furious witch’s fist made impact with Draco’s face. He clutched his jaw, glaring at the witch in abject anger and humiliation that he had let the little slip of a girl hit him _again_!

“Don’t you _dare_ , Ferret! I’d _never_ touch you. Not even if you were the last man on Earth! Not even if I contracted a rare illness that I would _die from_ and your pathetic little prick was the only cure!”

“Contracted an illness from which you would die.” Harry corrected.

“YOU SHUT THE HELL UP HARRY JAMES POTTER! I don't need help from the peanut gallery! And since _when_ do you correct my grammar?” Hermione stomped off in the distance. She had never been so humiliated in her entire life. She walked back to the castle thinking that perhaps she _should_ have let her friends die from exposure. 


	3. Variations on Locker Room Talk

“Well _that_ was fucking unpleasant.” Dean stated after several moments of silence.

“Soooo…Ron. You and Hermione?” Harry tentatively looked up at his best friend for confirmation.

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone. It’s supposed to be a secret.” Ron whispered loudly. He was still too high to realize that others were present.

“Does Lav Lav know?” Ginny asked.

“Nobody knows. It happened a few times at the beginning of the year, but Hermione put an end to it. You know…she was _way_ better than Lav.”

Draco couldn’t believe he was allowed to witness this.

“Yeah? Like…how?” Harry asked, trying to appear casual.

“Like…I don’t know. She does this _thing_ with her mouth.” Ron never would have engaged in this sort of locker room talk if he had not still been stoned out of his mind. “I can’t describe it. But it was fucking _mental_.”

It was Dean’s turn to ask questions. “So did you guys like, do it do it, or just fool around?”

“Just fooled around. But she’s not a virgin. She had sex with Krum last year when he was on tour in England.”

“You guys do realize that I’m _still_ here, yeah?” Ginny wasn’t too keen on hearing about her brother’s sexual exploits with her best friend.

Draco forgot all about smoking weed. He wasn’t really too keen on it to begin with. He had just learned some _very valuable_ information about Granger. Information his Slytherin chums would be very interested to hear.

When Granger had come back from the summer this past year (apparently no longer a virgin) it was evident she wasn’t the frizzy-haired, buck toothed little know-it-all she had always been. Her breasts swelled impressively under her uniform jumper. She had grown taller, her legs longer, and her skirt shorter as a result of it. Her lips were pinker, her hair smoother, and her eyes held a secret sort of “woman-ness” that made her male classmates desperate to crack the code.

Blaise and Theo sure as fuck noticed her. They talked about her enough—wondering what she looked like under her robes, speculating as whether maybe she preferred girls. Draco kept silent during these discussions, but only because he had spent five years tormenting the girl. To suddenly admit that he too had noticed the new developments in the Muggleborn would be accepting defeat.

But Merlin almighty, did Draco notice. Yet another reason this year was such a crap shoot was the self-loathing he felt that Granger had become the star of his daily wanking fantasies. To learn that she was so good with that smart little mouth…it was priceless. Draco could almost forgive her for punching him in the face. Although…

He would rather _Avada_ himself than admit it to anyone, but the fact that Weasley had gotten his freckled hands on the girl was _beyond_ offensive to him. She was so _painfully_ out of his league in _every possible way_ that Draco felt there could not possibly be any justice in the world if Weasley could get a girl as fine as Granger to suck him off, and Draco hadn’t so much as kissed a girl since the start of the year.

Draco would have thought that Granger had higher standards. He meant what he said that she was slumming it with a Weasley. She could have _anyone_! She could have _him_ for fuck’s sake! Every bloke in Slytherin wielded a boner for the uptight little chit. He’d bet his blood that those in Gryffindor did too. The Ravenclaw nerds probably jerked off to the idea of Granger curled up in bed with a book. As for those poofters in Hufflepuff…they wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if it was presented to them on a silver platter.

Maybe telling Blaise and Theo wouldn’t be such a good idea. He wouldn’t want them to think that he fancied her or anything. And he was absolutely positive that he didn’t feel anything so disgusting as _fancying_ Granger. But he was a sixteen-year-old guy with perfect eyesight, a healthy libido, and a working cock. Of _course_ he wanted to fuck her. Blaise and Theo just didn’t need to know that. They had speculated, and Draco privately agreed, that Potter and Weasley must be bent to spend so much time with a luscious little lioness like Granger and not try to stick it to her. Now he knew that Weasley _had_ in fact _succeeded_ in getting into Granger’s knickers, at least in some capacity. And from the inquisitive look on Potter’s face when he learned of his two best friends’ involvement with each other, he figured that Potter was well aware that Granger was a girl after all.

When Draco first realized that he himself wanted Granger, he thought he had gone mad. He remembered the day it happened...

It was a rainy day back in September. Draco was scouring the Restricted Section, thinking he might find something to help him repair the Vanishing Cabinet. As he perused a promising book, he strolled around the corner to make his way to his favorite table and nearly crashed into a figure in the next aisle. He caught himself just before his head made impact.

The figure, Hermione Granger, did not notice him. She was standing on her tip toes on a stool, grasping for an out-of-reach book. As she stretched her taut muscles, her back arched and her skirt to rode up enough for Draco to see that she was wearing a pink thong with a little bow at the top…like a present. Her arse was perfect. The perfect size, toned and round. The skin was as smooth and creamy as soft serve ice cream, begging to be licked and bitten into.

When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from Granger’s exquisite arse, he noticed that she wasn’t wearing her jumper and that the gaps between the buttons in her shirt gaped enough to reveal teasing glimpses of the flesh beneath, including Grangers dark bra. Although he couldn’t see the full picture, he was familiar enough with female anatomy to know that Granger possessed full, firm breasts which looked to be C-cups (bordering on D), sitting exquisitely atop Granger’s small waist.

He felt as though someone had just slammed him in the head with a Bludger. How the fuck had he missed that Granger had gotten so…hot? Draco felt cheated. Had Granger been there this whole time, body ripe and perfect for the taking, and he had never noticed? When did she sprout such a mouth-watering pair of tits?

She was so close he could just reach out and touch her, running his fingers up her skirt to cup and squeeze that peach-like arse. He wanted to rip that pink thong off with his teeth, and then… _What in the Seven Hells is he thinking? This is Granger! Queen Mudblood. The Swot of all Swots._

As Draco made a sudden move to shake himself out of his lecherous reverie and adjust his too tight trousers, when Granger noticed him. “Malfoy! You scared me. Thinking about giving me a shove or something?”

 _Or something_. Yeah he was thinking about giving her all kinds of things, but a shove sure as fuck wasn’t one of them. “Sod off Granger!”

 _Sod, off Granger_? That’s all he can think of? Shit, he needed to get laid. He didn’t even realize he was so hard up for pussy that he would find Granger sexually stimulating. He could always just give in and shag Pansy, but after last year he had had enough of her. She was clingy and the sound of her voice alone was a major boner killer.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“Do you need help or something?” _Wait, what_? Did he just offer to help her? Merlin, that pink thong really did a number on him.

“Um…sure. I can’t quite reach this book. But you’re so tall… it should be no problem for you.” She flushed slightly.

Draco smirked, pleased that she had noticed that he’d grown several more inches over the summer. _I’d like to show her where else I’ve grown_. Draco carefully ducked around Granger, not missing the way she raked her eyes over his form as he moved. _The little minx was checking him out_. He extended his arm and grabbed her book, not even needing to stand on his tip toes. He handed her the book, shooting her a charming smirk—the one that caused many Slytherin girls to drop their panties.

“Thanks.” Granger was blushing. _Oh, gods, she’s gorgeous when she blushes_.

“Don’t mention it.” Draco responded in his huskiest, sexiest voice. His eyes traveling over her body and resting finally on her bewildered, blushing face. “I’ll see you around Granger.” With a cheeky wink, he left the aisle, not daring to look back.

For the rest of the day he berated himself. He couldn’t be ogling her, flirting with her, winking at her. She was _Hermione Granger_! She’d be one of the first to go if the Dark Lord got his way.

Not that he agreed with the Dark Lord’s agenda. The only side Draco was on was his own. He was in it to survive. A great way to jeopardize that is to fantasize about being balls deep inside the alluring Gryffindor Princess as she moaned his name and thrashed beneath him. The Dark Lord would surely find out and punish him as a blood traitor.

Draco ran back to the Slytherin Common room to find Blaise and Theo playing a particularly violent round of Wizard’s Chess.

“Hey Draco! You look like shit, man,” Blaise commented. “You look worse than Theo when he had that sex dream about McGonagall.”

“Fuck you Blaise! We agreed to never speak of that again.” Theo retorted.

“You never should have told us. It’s not our fault you’re shite at being Slytherin.” Blaise replied condescendingly. “So what’s up with you, Draco? You walk in on two house elves fucking or something?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. But…I mean…hypothetically…speaking of…having weird thoughts about weird people…?” He stopped, deciding it really was better to test the waters before he admitted to his Slytherin-to-the-core buddies that he had gotten a hard-on for Swot Extroidonaire Granger.

The two boys stared at him. “Aw shit, Draco. I knew it. You’re a fag.” Blaise finally said.

“ _What_? I’m not _bent_ you fucking wanker! I’m talking about…Pansy.” _Meh, what the hell?_  “I’m trying to figure out how to get rid of her. She doesn’t really do it for me anymore and she’s clingy as hell.”

As true as this was, he didn’t really need advice. He was pretty sure he could handle getting rid of her on his own. He’d make her think it was her idea. She was like a barnacle. Once she got attached to something, it was impossible to pry her off before she was good and ready. “And _why_ would you think I was gay?”

Blaise shrugged. “You know. The blond hair, the cheekbones, the poncey clothes. I’m not saying you are gay. Just that you’d make someone a really sweet boyfriend.” Blaise's reply, earned a snicker from Theo and a glare from Draco.

“You are both rubbish friends.”

Theo perked up, “Speaking of rubbish friends, you mind if I have a go at Pansy once you’re through with her?”

“Be my guest. Hopefully you have a high tolerance for glittery lip gloss rubbed all over you and gossip about her bitchy friends.” Draco snarled.

“But she’s good in the sack, right?” Theo asked.

“She’s slutty. Eager to please.” Draco responded, sounding bored.

“Aw man, who gives a shit? Plenty of girls are good in the sack. I’ve always said, she was too easy for you, bro.” Blaise nodded to Draco in respect. “You should go for a _real_ conquest this year. A challenge.”

“Yeah, like who?” Draco responded. Although he had a pretty great candidate in mind already. A curly-haired, brown-eyed swot with a repulsive personality, horrendous taste in friends, and a body he’d like to lick like a Honeyduke’s lolly.

“Well, Slytherin girls are all too easy. I’d say Hufflepuffs, but honestly…” The three murmured in agreement and shook their heads. “Ravenclaw maybe? Those nerdy, bookish types are the wildest in bed. OOOOH. I got it. _Granger_.” Blaise tore apart Hermione’s surname like a piece of fresh salt-water taffy. “That Mudblood’s got the nicest rack in the castle. _Merlin_ , Potter and Weasley must be going out of their minds hanging around a piece of arse like that all the time!”

“You think she’s fucked either one of them? Or both of them?” Theo speculated.

“You can’t _possibly_ be serious!” Draco exclaimed in faux-protest. “Granger? I’d sooner stick it to Moaning Myrtle,” Draco hoped the lie sounded more convincing than it tasted on his lips.

“Draco, you’re fucking blind. I know you’ve got your thing with the Golden Trio and all, but this is deeper than that. This is _pussy_. Like it or not, that dirty blood’s got some damn fine packaging. Maybe you really are bent if you can’t see it. Ah, man I’d tear that ‘packaging’ _up_.” Blaise and Theo chuckled at the vulgar innuendo.

Draco realized just how blind he really had been. His best friends saw it. He’d bet his broomstick they weren’t the only ones. Blaise was right. He had wasted too much time with slaggy Slytherin tarts. In that same moment he realized that he was right to be cautious of revealing his newfound lust for Granger. Blaise and Theo might agree, but they’d still never let him live it down. They’d do worse. They’d egg him on and probably make some sort of sick bet on how quickly he could get into the Gryffindor’s knickers. Sharing this with the Slyther-bro community of clunge hunters would just make everything needlessly complicated. Mainly because he would probably start to actually pursue the bitch and he was smart enough to know how reckless and _totally out of the question_ that was.

“I’ll leave you two to perve on Granger in peace. I feel dirtier just having been a part of this conversation.”

From that day on, Draco couldn’t get Granger out of his mind. He’d dream of her pink thong with the little bow ( _sweet packaging_ ) and her gorgeous little know-it-all mouth moaning his name, and he’d wake up with a raging boner. Morning wanks became a necessity. Always with the same girl in mind. Many days once was not enough. He’d see her prancing around the dungeons in their shared Potions class like she owned the place, hips swaying. He’d charm her wand to fall off her desk just to watch her bend over to pick it up. He’d watch her stretch her arms behind her head and roll up the sleeves of her shirt when she was working on a potion, pushing her gorgeous tits out. Soon the weather got colder and while she started wearing tights under her skirt, the cold came with other perks because every so often her nipples would get noticeably hard through her bra. _Merlin_ , those nipples deserved a good pinching.

All in all, Draco became sick in the head.

Now he had proof that Granger was a sexual being and not just some phantom teasing him with the hypothetical sexuality of her tight body and her wet mouth. He knew Blaise and Theo would skin him alive if they ever found out that he had hidden this information from them, but he was a selfish bastard. He’d take the risk. This was something he was keeping for himself.


	4. Hermione is Good at Hiding

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon hiding from her friends. She couldn’t _believe_ Ron! They had promised never to tell anyone what had happened between them. They hadn’t even spoken about it to each other since Ron and Lavender got together.

She wasn’t too bothered that Ron had told Harry, Ginny, and Dean. If anyone _absolutely_ had to know, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that it was those three. The horror of the situation was that he had inadvertently told _Malfoy_! GAH!!!

Malfoy had actually been semi-decent to her this year too. He rarely called her a Mudblood (even though that word had long since become white noise). He didn’t tease her. He barely even spoke to her. Until today the longest interaction the two had was that day in the library back at the beginning of term when he actually _offered to help her_. Hermione still couldn’t wrap her head around that day. She got the strangest sense that…maybe…he was sort of _flirting_ with her, as ridiculous as that sounded. After that day, Malfoy seemed to forget that she existed. Sure, he still couldn’t resist ripping on Harry and Ron, but he just sort of glossed over her, as if she wasn’t even there. Every now and then she’d catch him looking at her in class, but he’d look away the moment she turned her head.

During those moments, Hermione was forced to admit an uncomfortable truth. Malfoy was actually pretty fit. She loathed the smug bastard with every fiber of her being, but she had to admit that she fully understood why the blond Slytherin was so popular with the ladies. He was tall and had a traditional lean, muscular Seeker’s build. His penetrating silver eyes gave him an air of otherworldliness. He had a sharp, angular jawline which was often highlighted by the signature smirk he wore so handsomely. He carried himself with the casual elegance of a rebellious rich boy. It was bloody infuriating that such a travesty of a human being looked so good.

Merlin, nobody got under her skin like that blond prick! The way he had goaded her until she lost control again and punched him in the face. Hermione wasn’t one for extreme bouts of emotion, unlike her fellow Gryffindors. Honestly, she was never supposed to be in Gryffindor at all. She remembered the Sorting Ceremony like it was yesterday. She never told anyone about the conversation between her and the Hat…

_“Well, now. Bit of temper on you, eh?”_

_“_ _Not really, no. I can’t recall ever having lost my temper.”_

_“Hehe! Perhaps not. But the temper is still there, no matter if you lost it or not. You’re good at hiding, aren’t you? I should put you in Slytherin.”_

_“_   _W_ _HAT??? You can’t do that! I’ve read all about Slytherin! I’m Muggleborn! They’ll never accept me! Don’t you dare!!!!”_

 _“_ _Hehehehe! What’s that you said about not having a temper, lass? You see, at first glance one would think you’re a Ravenclaw. Clever, thirsty for knowledge, level-headed. But you’re more emotional than you let on. You’re just good at hiding it. Cleverness and ambition are also Slytherin traits, as is the ability to ‘play the game’ so to speak. You’d fit in very well there. And they’d challenge you, lassie. They’d teach you how to achieve your ambitions, how to read other people. You’ve got a knack for it. You’d do proper well down in them dungeons.”_

_“PLEASE no!”_

_“_ _What’s your beef with Slytherin, eh?”_

_“From everything I’ve read, they won’t accept a Muggleborn. Plus, You-Know-Who was a Slytherin, as was pretty much every other dark wizard!”_

_“_ _Eh, now a smart girl like you shouldn’t listen to gossip, even if it’s been published in a book. The other houses got their fair share of shady witches and wizards too. You just don’t hear about them. Merlin, himself was a Slytherin, did you know that? And let me tell you about them Slytherin snakes, lassie. They take care of their own. They might give you a bit of a hard time at first, but once you’ve proven that you’re one of them, they’ll do anything for you. Why else do you think I said that in Slytherin ‘you’ll meet your true friends.’ Every bit as loyal as Hufflepuffs. Just choosey about who deserves their loyalty. Still afraid, lassie?”_

 _“_ _I am not afraid of Slytherin. Let’s get that clear right now. I just don’t fancy spending the next seven years of my life being lumped in with the ‘bad kids.’ Even if they do accept me, I’m not sure I accept them.”_

_“Hohoho! So you’re even less logical than you seem. Fine then, lassie. Slytherin is the house for you, but I can see you won’t be swayed. You’re stubborn, aren’t you lassie? And more than a little feckless. When asked by the other students, ‘Say what took so long?’ you’ll tell them that I wanted to put you in Ravenclaw, which is very Slytherin of you by the way.” Hermione glared. “Well, then. Where shall I put you?”_

_“Ravenclaw is fine.”_

_“I’m not looking for **fine** , lassie, I’m looking for **right**! And Slytherin is right. Ravenclaw is fine. Hufflepuff is out of the question. A Hufflepuff would never argue this long with me about which house to put them in. Hmmm. So you’re stubborn. And you insist that you’re not afraid of Slytherins. Brave one, eh? You’ve got the potential for it, lassie. Those Gryffindors would teach you. You’d become proper devil-may-care up there in that lion tower. Before you know it you’ll be takin’ risks and not carin’ at all about the consequences. How ‘bout it, lassie? Does Gryffindor sound acceptable for Your Highness?” _

_Hermione rolled her eyes, “Just put me in Gryffindor.”_

_“Yeah, you’ll do well in Gryffindor all right. GRYFFINDOR!”_

Hermione thinks back to that day every now and then. The Sorting Hat was right. When students ask her what took so long, she always tells them that the Hat considered putting her in Ravenclaw. No one questions it since she _is_ the Brightest Witch of Her Age. But sometimes Hermione wonders how different her life would have been had she allowed the Hat to put her in Slytherin. Sure, she probably never would have been friends with Harry and Ron, which would have been awful, but Hermione wasn’t such a Gryffindor that she couldn’t admit that she probably would have made other friends and loved them just as much as Harry and Ron. She didn’t buy that whole “meant to be” nonsense, which is part of the reason she loathed Divination.

Hermione cultivated the emotional side of her in Gryffindor. She allowed herself to feel things like giddiness and hatred. And whenever Malfoy came around, he couldn’t seem to help but bring out that side of her… that _hatred_. An ice white hatred that demanded an outlet. When he called her a tart… _Merlin_ that made her just want to disembowel him. More so than when he ever called her a Mudblood. The thought that he probably pranced right down to the dungeons and told every Slytherin who would listen that Hermione Granger is a dirty little cocksucker made her want to sprout fangs, spit venom, and watch him die a show, agonizing death.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hermione, open up. It’s Ginny.”

Hermione really just wanted to be alone, but Gryffindor taught her that sometimes it’s healthy to seek companionship when one is feeling down. At least it was Ginny and not Harry or Ron. _Ron_! That little shit. Maybe she should punch him in the face too.

Hermione slowly drudged over to the door to receive Ginny. “Hey!” her friend greeted. “You weren’t at dinner. I figured you were hungry. We were all _starving_. I brought you this.” Ginny held up a flask full of pumpkin juice and a napkin covered bundle which contained three different types of sandwiches, a lemon poppy seed muffin, and a cherry Danish. “I stopped by the kitchens on the way up here.”

“Thanks, Gin.” Hermione realized that she was, in fact, famished. She motioned for Ginny to sit on her four poster bed.

“I wanted to check that you were ok. I can’t believe my brother! I know he didn’t mean to tell everyone, but _Merlin_. I never knew he was capable of such bellend-ish behavior. I just wanted you to know that Dean, Harry, and I…we’re not going to say anything. Don’t worry.”

Hermione smiled softly at her friend. “I know, Gin. And I’m not all that fussed that he told you guys. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m furious at Ron right now, but I know that he never would have said anything if he hadn’t been high out of his mind. I’ll be fine tomorrow. It’s Malfoy that’s the problem. I wanted this kept secret for a reason and now that’s shot to shit. There’s no way Malfoy is going to keep something like this to himself.” Hermione began to unwrap the parcel, selecting a turkey and avocado sandwich.

“Oh who gives a flying fuck about what the Slytherins think? You’re a Gryffindor, Hermione, and you’ve faced worse. I doubt they’ll ridicule you about this more than they will you being Muggleborn. Plus, it’s not like any of them have any room to talk. Slytherin is basically one giant orgy.”

Hermione tried and failed not to picture Crabbe and Goyle engaging in anything that resembled an orgy. She made a face as she bit into her sandwich.

“Something wrong with the food?”

“No. Food’s _amazing_ , by the way!” Maybe she was still a little high. “Just picturing Crabbe and Goyle having sex.”

Ginny blinked. “Gross,” she decided. “Try the caprese. It’s _ridiculous_!”

Hermione finished her food (Merlin, food really is better when you’re high) and spent the rest of the evening laughing, joking, and talking with her best girl friend. She decided that she wouldn’t waste any time caring what Malfoy or his snake cronies thought about her.

Falling asleep that night, Hermione thought, _Yeah, I’m glad that damn hat put me in Gryffindor_. 


	5. Banter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up between Draco and Hermione.

Draco slept horribly. He had a nightmare in which a crown clad Weasley stood in the middle of the Great Hall while Granger, clad in nothing but a pink thong, blew him as the Slytherins sang “Weasley is Our King”. He awoke in a terrible mood with a sick feeling in his stomach which he attributed to the fact that pathetic, impoverished, freckle-faced Weaselby enjoyed an active sex life while his own was on hiatus.

It was Sunday at least. That meant he could spend all day in the Room of Requirement. As he looked in the mirror at himself, he noticed that his left jaw was slightly bruised. He suppressed a slight grin at Granger’s handiwork. He wasn’t even mad about it. It’s the closest he’d ever get to having the girl touch him in any capacity.

Draco showered, changed into a black Henley jumper and jeans, and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As much as Draco was loathe to admit it, he did prefer Muggle clothing to wizarding robes. It was much more comfortable than the somewhat Victorian style of suits and robes his parents donned, and it highlighted his assets much more effectively.

Once seated in the Great Hall, he helped himself to eggs, bacon, and strawberries and poured himself a cup of coffee. He chanced a glance over at the Gryffindor table and saw Granger sitting with the Weaselette and Thomas. He noted that Potty and the Weasel were nowhere to be found. Granger seemed focused on her oatmeal until her eyes travelled momentarily to the Slytherin table. She did a slight double-take when she realized Draco was staring at her, and boldly glared back.

Draco didn’t understand why she would be angry with _him_! He wasn’t the one who boasted about her head-giving abilities to Merlin and country. Okay, maybe he _did_ call her a tart and make suggestive, arguably inappropriate comments about her giving _him_ head. But she _punched_ him and he wasn’t torn up about it. That was their thing, right? He says something bastardish and she loses her temper and socks him in the face. Draco would rather transfer to Hufflepuff than admit it, but her punches fucking _stung_.

Refusing to back down, he smirked at her while bringing a strawberry up to his mouth, wrapping his tongue suggestively around the sweet fruit, never breaking eye contact. Granger scowled, shifting her focus back to her oatmeal. Draco could have _sworn_ he saw her blush too.

Draco finished his breakfast and made his way to the library, having previously found a book in the Restricted Section which he thought might be of use. Sunday was the perfect day to sneak it out of the library. Not too many students around, and Madam Pinch, who was usually possessed a preternatural ability to tell when a book was being misused or misplaced, was likely to be sporting a hangover and wouldn’t notice.

Draco found the book in the Restricted Section and dashed around the corner, only to come face to thigh with Granger, who, once again was standing tip toe on a stool, attempting to reach a book on the top shelf.

“Granger, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

Hermione was startled at the interruption and lost her balance on the stool. Luckily, Draco’s Seeker reflexes were finely honed, and he was able to catch her around the waist before she fell. Hermione didn’t seem to realize immediately what had happened. She looked up and found herself gazing into the pewter eyes of one Draco Malfoy, Git Extraordinaire.

Draco didn’t even think about catching Granger…it just happened on instinct. As did the entirety of his interactions and feelings about Granger. As he looked down into those large, amber eyes, the eyes of the girl who hated him but who had still found herself impossibly in his arms, and he felt like someone had punched him in the gut. _Merlin, she’s_ _beautiful_. Her body felt warm and soft under his hands. He didn’t realize it, but he had tightened his grip on her.

“Malfoy. Thanks for catching me.” He stared, saying nothing. “You can let go of me now.”

Draco, realizing his mistake, immediately relinquished his hold on her, blushing and averting his gaze to the floor.

“I see your jaw is bruising nicely.” Draco looked up to find Granger smirking (very impressively too) at him in triumph.

“Ok Granger. Maybe I deserved that yesterday.” _WHAT_? Why on Merlin’s green earth would he ever admit to being wrong in front of the likes of Granger? He _seriously_ needed to get checked out by a Mind Healer.

She laughed at his admission. _Oh no, there’s that laugh again. Was that really because of me_? “You think? I can do it again, if you’d like. I’m sure you deserve it considering how you’ve probably spread it all around the school by now that Hermione Granger gives great head.”

Draco rapidly blinked, once, twice, three times. “What? I haven’t told anyone, Granger, and I wasn’t planning on it. Although if you’d like, I can remedy that right now.”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to blink. “You mean…you _didn’t_ say anything? Why? Why would you waste an opportunity to torture me?”

“Don’t pretend for a minute that you know anything about me, Granger. I’ll extend the same courtesy to you, considering that I never expected you to be such a naughty girl.”

Flashes of anger appeared in those amber eyes once again. For a moment Draco wondered if she was going to hit him again. _Why_ couldn’t he stop saying asshole-ish things to this girl? “I meant what I said yesterday, by the way. Not the thing about you being a tart. That was out of line, and I’m sorry about that.” _Stop. APOLOGIZING_! “I meant the thing about you lowering your standards for Weasley. I mean… _Weasley_? Seriously, Granger, why Weasley? You can do so much better than him. You _did_ do so much better. I mean you lost your virginity to Viktor Krum, didn’t you?”

Anger turned to outrage cloaked in confusion. _Shite. I’m really not supposed to know that am I_?

“Malfoy.” The way she said his name could freeze blood. “How. The fuck. Did you know that?”

“Uh…” Draco was ashamed to admit it to himself, but Granger was bloody terrifying right now. She was on par with his mother or Aunt Bellatrix. “Weasley mentioned it. After you left yesterday.”

He had no problem whatsoever throwing Weasley under the bus. The most frightening thing about Granger was how calm she seemed. Apart from her eyes. Her eyes were an inferno of rage. Draco would swear he even saw them change colors slightly. Her eyes might be full of fire, but everything else was ice. She would have made a _hell_ of a Slytherin. He only hoped that she would recognize that it was Weasley, and not him, who should be the target of her ire. It would be _so_ satisfying to watch her tear the Weasel a new arsehole. She could reduce him to pulp with a crook of her pinky finger. Which further begged the question of how a lowly piece of human garbage like Weasley pulled a girl like _Granger_! At least she came to her senses and broke it off. She would have been wasted on Weasley.

“Granger. You in there?”

“Thank you for telling me, Draco.”

 _Draco_. He had never heard her say his given name.

“No problem.” He stood there, thumbing the spine of his book.

Hermione appeared to come to life when she noticed the book he was holding. “ _Advanced Theorems on Repair and Destruction_. Hmm. Doing some light reading, I see. So which is it, Malfoy? Repair? Or Destruction?” She drawled in a voice which would have made Salazar Slytherin proud.

Her voice went straight to Draco’s groin. Was she _flirting_ with him? In Slytherin, this sort of banter was basically foreplay. Draco was filled with the sudden urge to throw her against the nearest bookshelf and fuck her brains out. He fixed her with his sexiest smirk and dropped his voice a couple of octaves.

“I don’t think I’ll answer that, Granger. I’ll just let you mull it over. After all, everyone knows you love a good puzzle. I wouldn’t want to deprive that pretty little _head_ of yours the opportunity to sort something out.”

He allowed his gaze to travel up and down her body, taking in every inch of the creamy witch before him. She was wearing dark denims today which hugged those sinful curves delightfully. He could barely make out the outline of a red bra through her thin white jumper, which contrasted beautifully with her slightly olive complexion. He was thrilled to note that her nipples were hard through her jumper, which he sincerely doubted had anything to do with the moderate temperature of the library.

Hermione felt naked under his gaze. She was reminded of another encounter they had in this very section of the library where she got the feeling that Malfoy was flirting with her. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her. She hated the way her body was reacting to this abominable human being. Her knickers had dampened at the way he was working his voice and eyes on her. And what exactly did he mean when he said that she could do better than Weasley? Did he _just_ mean Viktor?

“Here’s another puzzle for you, Malfoy.” Hermione pushed out her breasts slightly and leaned against the nearest bookshelf. “Why do you insist that Ron’s not good enough for me when you’ve reminded me repeatedly over the years that I should be lucky to lick the _boots_ of a pureblood? I should think by that logic I was a _very_ lucky girl to get the opportunity to lick _other_ parts.”

 _Holy shit this girl is good._ Draco’s breath hitched. Her words, combined with the slightly floral vanilla scent of her perfume was having a profound effect on his body. He had to move his book to the front of his trousers to hide the very inconvenient erection which had formed within the last few minutes of their interaction. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

“As much as it pains me to admit Granger, Weasel is completely beneath you. Blood status aside, if a girl like you wants to fool around with anyone, you should set your sights higher.”

“How high, exactly?” Her voice contained the whisper of a dare.

Draco bent his arm on the same bookcase, leaning in slightly and whispering huskily, “You know Granger, I personally can’t stand you because you’re a swotty little bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone else. But given the chance, I’d fuck you so hard you’d be speaking Parseltongue for a week.”


	6. Close Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scent of lemons lingers in the air...
> 
> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

“You know Granger, I personally can’t stand you because you’re a swotty little bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone else. But given the chance, I’d fuck you so hard you’d be speaking Parseltongue for a week.”

Mic drop. Hermione realized she had lost the game. She had absolutely no idea how to respond to that declaration. Should she resort to the old stand by and sock him in the face for his insolence? Or should she throw him to the ground and ride him silly? There had to be a middle ground.

“Well, Granger. What do you have to say to that?” he goaded with a smirk, pupils blown so wide he looked like he had been possessed by a demon.

Hermione realized this was her cue to speak. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was trying to think fast, to figure out a way to salvage her embarrassment, when her body decided it was done waiting for her to make up her mind. Her hand acted of its own accord, lightly tapped the book out of the way, and pressed its palm into Malfoy’s prominent erection through his trousers.

“Naaahaaaaaa!” Draco moaned at the contact and backed fully against the bookshelf. He sounded like a wounded animal, which somewhat restored Hermione’s confidence. She quite enjoyed seeing him so helpless.

“What’s that, Draco?” She relished the sound of his name on her tongue and realized Malfoy had gotten even harder at that single word. “See I think you’re all talk. Who’s to say you’d know what to do with me if you got me?”

“Wanna…test me…witch?” Draco struggled as Hermione pushed even harder against him. He dropped his book and his arms pulled the witch flush against him. He summoned enough blood to his brain to speak properly. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He dropped his head and claimed her lips in a searing kiss. Hermione hesitated for half a moment before melting into the kiss. Malfoy _really_  knew what he was doing. His mouth manipulated her own so expertly, Hermione could feel the kiss in her quaking knickers. She would need to change those later, as they were now completely creamed. She moaned into the kiss and he drank her up like a dying man. His lips moved to her neck, licking and biting. He quickly found a particularly sweet tasting spot on her pulse point that made her moan so loudly he was sure someone would hear her.

“Quiet, princess.” He whispered against her neck, lips never leaving her skin. His hands wandered, cupping and squeezing her breasts, her perfect arse, and moving up under her jumper to feel her through her bra.

“ _Malfoy_.” She shuddered against him.

Draco groaned and reclaimed her lips to get her to shut the fuck up. He couldn’t bear to hear that sweet mouth moaning his name while her hand was still on the bulge in his trousers. If he didn’t come in his pants it would be a bloody miracle. He shoved his tongue in her mouth while pulling the cups of her bra down enough to pinch those nipples he had been fantasizing about for months. She made the most sinful noises into his mouth and Draco felt ten feet tall. He pulled, pinched, and explored her nipples while she moaned wantonly. _Merlin_ , she was responsive. And she felt and tasted even better than he imagined.

Her hands moved from his member to explore under his jumper. One hand clutched his back, leaving little scratches in its wake, Draco gave her arse a randy squeeze in approval and moaned into her mouth. Merlin, they were being loud. And all this just from making out. Her other hand trailed across his stomach tracing his abs with her fingertips. Draco was fairly sure he had never been this hard in his life. One hand continued to squeeze her arse while the other felt her breasts under her bra. He ground his hips up into her, earning them both the loudest moan of all. With their combined noises (Hermione’s “ _Ahhhhh_ ” and Draco’s “ _Fuuuuck_ ”), they both stilled, realizing that they were still in the library. Madam Pince might be a tad bit lethargic from her lushing the night before, but she wasn’t deaf.

They jumped apart as they heard footsteps making their way to the aisle. Draco busied himself with picking up and skimming through the book he had dropped. Hermione suddenly became very interested in a volume labelled “ _Curses for Your Enemies’ Descendants: How to Ensure They’ll Never Be Happy Again_ ”.

The footsteps stopped the next aisle over before changing direction and fading into the background. It was rather fortunate, as the pair’s sudden interest in their education did nothing to conceal what they had actually been doing. Draco’s boner was still going strong, eager to have a go at the Gryffindor Princess, and Hermione’s jumper was bunched over where her bra was still trapped underneath her breasts where Draco had freed them.

Once the coast was clear, Hermione put the horrible book back on the shelf and fixed her bra through her jumper. Her heart had still not slowed, first from the ridiculously hot make out session with Draco Malfoy, then from the fear that they would be caught. She turned around tentatively to find the tall blond Slytherin staring lecherously at her. Clearly, from the bulge in his trousers, his heart hadn’t stopped pounding either.

“Granger” his voice in that husky cadence she now would think about whenever she touched herself, “don’t go getting shy on me now.” He made his way over to her.

Hermione backed up until she felt the bookshelf against her back, eyes wide, cheeks on fire. “I’m not shy. Just…what the fuck was that?”

“Snogging, Granger. Merlin, Weasel _really_ didn’t know what he was doing, did he?”

“I know what snogging is you prat, I just don’t know why I’d do it with you.”

Draco coiled an arm around her waist. “Because you’re attracted to me, Granger. Don’t worry, no one would blame you.”

“Ugh! You are _such_ a narcissist. I am _so_ not attracted to you!” _Liar, liar, pants on fire_!

“So you say, Granger, but I’ll bet if I checked your knickers they’d tell me something different.” His smirk was animalistic, his hand running up and down her spine. _Pants on fire,_ _indeed_.

“You participated fully in what just happened, Granger. Admit it. You want me.”

“In your dreams, Malfoy.”

“Oh yeah, Granger. In my dreams, in my fantasies, in my hand when I’m in the shower. Should I continue?”

_Holy shit this guy was good._ Hermione was fairly sure she’d never be able to wear these knickers again.

“I can’t help what you think about, Malfoy.” She responded, more boldly than she actually felt right now. She barely noticed Draco pulling her closer while crooking his other hand softly under her chin, moving her head up and forcing him to look into his eyes.

“You. Little. Cock tease.” He claimed her lips again, this time grabbing her firmly by the small of her back while his other hand buried itself in her curls, pulling her hair and earning him a gorgeous throaty sigh from the witch. He ground his hardness against her and she swooned, throwing her arms around his neck. Their tongues were frantic and desperate, each of them wanting to consume the other.

Hermione leaned back, throwing a leg around his hip, seeking more contact. She bucked her hips and Draco was fairly certain he was going to explode.

“I want you” he whispered, lips trailing from her lips to her jaw.

“Oh, _fuck_.”

“Merlin, you’ve got such a dirty mouth,” he managed to utter between kisses down her neck. “Such a shame that it was wasted on someone like Weasley.”

“Jealous, Malfoy?” her voice, breathy.

“Fuck yeah, I am. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to have your pretty little mouth on me.” He squeezed her arse for emphasis while grinding his erection against her core. She gasped.

In a split second, a decision was made. Hermione straightened up, grabbed Draco’s hand and guided him to the back of the Restricted Section, to a corner so abandoned, she had taken the occasional nap there when studying for her OWLs.

“Granger, what the…” she answered with a fumbling of his belt. “Oh fuck! This isn’t happening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemon cliffhanger. Next time, ACTUAL lemons.


	7. And in the Library, No Less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LEMONS! Lemons all over the place.

“Granger, what the…” she answered with a fumbling of his belt. “Oh fuck! This isn’t happening.”

“Hush, or it _won’t_ happen”

Yeah, he would hush. He’d do pretty much anything else she told him to do at this point.

She sank to her knees and slid his trousers down to his ankles. Pulling him out of his boxer briefs she looked up at him through lusty slits and warned, “You’ve got to be quiet, Draco. This is a library.”

Draco nearly groaned at the reminder. He watched her move her head closer and closer.

_FUCK HIM RUNNING_! She swallowed his cock! In one go! Holy fucking shit the things she was doing with her tongue should be fucking illegal. If she kept that up he was going to come immediately. He buried his hands in her curls and backed himself against the wall, as he was no longer capable of standing up on his own. _Nothing_ had ever felt as good as Hermione Granger sucking his cock. This was probably the best day of his life.

“Oh fuck, oh shit, _Merlin_ do that again! Holy _fuck_ you’re good at this. Mmmmmmm” He manically whispered, incapable of being fully silent. He watched as his cock disappeared again and again into that pretty face and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from coming.

“Naaahhmmmmm, Granger. Fuck, so good! Suck my cock, Granger. _Mmmmm_. That’s it.” She ran her hot tongue down his shaft and sucked a bollock into her mouth. The need to scream was so great and so denied him that a single tear fell down his cheek. This girl made cock-sucking an art, and he was moved deeply by it. She took his entire length into her mouth again and swallowed, sucking hard.

“Granger, you’re so fucking good. _YES_ , Granger. Ummmmmmm.” She started teasing him, running her tongue delicately over his head. He whimpered desperately. “ _Please_ , don’t stop.”

She couldn’t say she was displeased that she had gotten the Slytherin Prince to beg for her. And he did it so well that she was inclined to be kind. She took him back into her mouth and resumed her enthusiastic sucking and licking.

He moaned in his appreciation. He prayed to her “Gods, Granger, you’re amazing. Yes, please, more, please!”

Hermione grinned over his cock, sucking and bobbing harder.

“Merlin-Granger-please-don’t-stop!” His voice was strangled. He sounded like he was near death. She didn’t break rhythm, knowing he was close.

“Gonna... _come_. Would you like that Granger? My hot cum squirting down your throat?”

Hermione hummed in response, flicking her tongue in an intricate pattern while sucking even harder.

With a feral grunt he came, going momentarily blind except for the white stars which had appeared in the back of his head.

“FUCK Granger! Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh! _Fuuuck_.”

She sucked and sucked until she was sure she had fully seen him through it. She looked up at him with feigned innocence in her amber eyes and swallowed, licking her lips.

Draco had never seen such a beautiful sight in all his life. He shook his head in disbelief, head knocking back against the wall and shutting his eyes. He swallowed, panting and tucked himself back into his pants. He opened his eyes to find Granger had stood up and leaned against an adjacent bookshelf, looking very pleased with herself.

“Granger… that was _fucking_ brilliant.”

“I’m aware.”

“Where the _fuck_ did you learn to do that? No, never mind. Don’t tell me.”

He pushed himself off the wall and pounced on her. He attacked her lips, kissing her roughly. He bit her bottom lip and ran a soothing tongue over the area. “I thought you said you wouldn’t touch me even if you were dying and the only cure was my cock.” He grinned cheekily at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Don’t ruin it by talking, Ferret.”

She kissed him hard, nibbling on his bottom lip, pulling his hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned at the newly discovered erogenous area. He pulled back and bit her neck.

“Granger, I think I might die if you don’t let me taste you now.” He panted against her neck, his hand rubbing across her clothed crotch. His lips and teeth pulled the skin of her neck into his mouth while he waited for her to make her decision.

“Please, Granger” he whispered. “I don’t like begging, but I will if that’s what it takes.”

Hermione’s breath hitched at his declaration. “Draco,” she whispered.

Draco growled and kissed her hard pinning her to the bookshelf with a ferocity she had only seen him display on the Quidditch pitch. She was sure he’d leave a bruise on her hips but she really didn’t give a fuck about that right now.

“Say that again.”

“ _Draco_.”

“Fucking _hells_ Granger!” He ground his hips against her so she could feel how hard he was again, so soon after she sucked him off so exquisitely. She moaned at the contact.

“So what will it be, Granger?” his lips ghosted over hers while his fingers moved to undo the button of her denims. She nodded her consent and Draco immediately backed her into the bookshelf and dropped to his knees.

He latched his teeth onto the zipper of her jeans, dragging it down. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her denims down her lithe body. He gazed now at the newly exposed skin. Granger was wearing a pair of white lace knickers. “So beautiful” he whispered before kissing the inside of each thigh. He pulled the knickers down to reveal his prize.

A small vertical strip of hair covered her mound. Draco inhaled the scent. _Is this what it felt like to be high_? If so this was definitely his new drug of choice. He parted her legs and stroked his tongue up her wet slit. He barely registered the moan from above, so caught up was he in her delicious scent and taste.

Damn. If he ever went to Azkaban, he would request Hermione Granger’s pussy as his last meal. He buried his tongue inside her, tasting more of her sweet, tangy essence. When he sucked on her delicious, gorgeous clit she whimpered.

“Oh, Draco, pleeease. _Yes_ , just there. Please, Draco. I love it!” If she hadn’t already gone down on him he would have come in his trousers at the sound of Hermione Granger begging for him to fuck her with his tongue. He recalled how she had made him beg earlier, and Draco could give as well as he could get. He resolved to give her an orgasm that she would remember for the rest of her life.

He licked along the side of her pretty pink clit, alternating between hot licks and ghosting his tongue just above the swollen bud. It was driving her up the wall. No...literally she was sliding up the wall. She was bouncing on her tip toes, sliding her back against the bookshelf, riding his face and burying her hands in his hair.

He was pretty sure he would crave this after today. She would become his favorite flavor. The scent, the taste of her, the delicious sounds he was pulling out of her. It was too much. Draco thrust into the air, hoping to brush up against _something_ that would relieve the mounting pressure in his groin. He continued to lick and nibble and eat the beautiful witch fucking his face until he heard her breath become sporadic, harsh, and impossibly ragged. He knew what that meant. He slipped a digit into her opening and pressed against that special spot behind her clit once, twice, three times.

She exploded on his tongue. “Ahhhhhhhhh! _Yeeeesss_!” She came with a sigh.

He felt her gorgeous cunt clamp around his finger and he continued to lap at her juices until she rode it out. He removed his finger and took it into his mouth to suck.

“Get dressed and come with me.” He ordered, wiping her juices from his chin.

“Wwwhat?”

“Now.”

She didn’t argue. She wasn’t really in a position to argue, coming down from the best orgasm of her young life. She pulled up her knickers and jeans, cheeks aflame, not quite believing that she had just done that in the library of all places, with _Draco Malfoy_ of all people. It was a bloody miracle that they didn’t get caught. She looked up to find him glowering at her. He grabbed her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Room of Requirement.” He answered curtly.

“Why…”

She didn’t finish that question as he had her pushed up against a bookshelf and shoved his tongue down her throat, forcing her to taste herself. When he broke the kiss, he answered, “I have to fuck you.”

“Now wait just a minute heruuuumm.”

Another kiss. Her hips ground against his and he knew he had her, smirking into the kiss.

He backed off, looking down at her, “You want me too, Granger. No way did Weasley or Krum ever make you come that hard.”

He was 100% right. Hermione wasn’t one to argue with such flawless logic.

“Let’s go” she said so quietly, he might not have heard it if he wasn’t pressed up against her.

He grabbed her by the hand and she followed him out of the library, through the corridors and staircases, until they reached the seventh floor.

Outside the Room, Draco grabbed Hermione’s hand, looked into her eyes and said, “I need a place to shag this girl’s brains out.”

Hermione smirked at the blond wizard while the door appeared, shaking her head as he returned her smirk, his arms enveloped her waist and he dragged her to him while he backed against the door. His lips found hers.

She pulled back just long enough to say, “You’re out of your fucking mind,” before claiming his lips again.


	8. A Git Like Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean opens Harry's and Ron's eyes to a shocking revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is a pretty short chapter and I wanted to get it in quickly before publishing another smutty chapter tomorrow.

“Harry, do you reckon Hermione’s still pissed at me?” Ron asked, looking up from his Charms essay he had been struggling through.

“Ginny said that she wasn’t really mad at you. I mean…yeah she _was_ , but you know Hermione. She’s doesn’t stay mad for long. Apparently she was mainly just upset that you said it in front of Malfoy.”

“Yeah, I really bollocksed that up, didn’t I?”

“Working on the Charms essay?” Dean announced his arrival with a plop on the chair next to their couch. “Without Hermione? Blimey, _good luck_ there.”

“D’you finish yours then? Let’s see it.” Ron inquired.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just wait for Hermione to get back and she can check it for you. I’m sure hers is better than mine.”

“She hasn’t been around all day. I think she’s still cross with me.”

“Nah mate I saw her at breakfast and she seemed fine. She said she was going to the library after. You know how she is. Probably just got into the zone.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just feel bad, you know.”

“Don’t worry about it too much, mate. It’s not like you said anything _bad_ about her, right? You were pretty complementary if I remember correctly.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smirk from Harry and a groan from Ron.

“Bugger off, Dean. I remember what I said, alright. I just can’t believe I let _Malfoy_ in on it.”

“You do know that Malfoy’s got a _massive_ crush on Hermione, right?”

Harry and Ron blinked simultaneously, their faces blank.

“So you don’t know. Right, yeah, well…it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

They blinked again.

“Merlin you two are _seriously_ oblivious! I mean it took you both years to realize that Hermione was a girl, even longer to realize that she was a _fit_ girl, and you _still_ don’t realize that every other bloke in this place would give just about anything for a night with her.”

Rapid blinking, “Malfoy likes Hermione?” Ron asked stupidly.

“Think about it, mate. He stares at her _all_ the time. He always leaves her out of it when he’s bullying you lot. And did you see how jealous he was when he heard that you had been with her?”

“Not really. I mean, I was stoned off my arse, wasn’t I?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Whatever mate. Notice it, don’t notice it. I don’t care either way. Just trust me when I say that Malfoy was _insanely_ jealous of you.”

“Huh. Is it bad that I don’t hate that?” Ron realized. “Pretty sure Malfoy’s never been jealous of _me_ before. I mean _Harry_ , yeah sure, all the time, but _me_? This is a first.”

Harry addressed Dean. “You sure about this? I mean…Malfoy’s a blood purist. I doubt he’d be interested in a Muggleborn, no matter how fit she is.”

Dean shook his head. “That blood purity shite is like a religion. People like Malfoy might spout the bullshit dogma, but I doubt he really cares when it comes down to it. I mean…it’s not like it's her _blood_ he wants to fuck.”

Ron grimaced. “Merlin’s _scrotum_ , Dean. Don’t _ever_ talk about Malfoy fucking _anything_ …Hermione-related or otherwise.”

Dean shrugged.

Harry scratched his head. “You know my theory on Malfoy. I’ve said it a million times. I really think he’s—“

“ _Please_ don’t let the next words out of your mouth be ‘Death’ and ‘Eater.’” Dean interjected.

Harry sighed. “Fine. I won’t say it. But if he’s got his eye on Hermione, then nothing good can come from it.”

Ron mussed his hair in contemplation. “You don’t think Malfoy’d ever get anywhere with her, do you?”

“Nah! No. Definitely not.” Harry responded.

Dean rolled his eyes again, feeling a surge of empathy for Hermione. He suddenly understood the dynamic between the so-called Golden Trio more than he ever thought he would.

“She’d definitely never go for a git like Malfoy.” Ron declared emphatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, on "High"...there be smut.


	9. Learning to Speak Parseltongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Just smut.

Inside the Room of Requirement Hermione and Draco mauled each other’s mouths, ripping at clothes, moaning without fear of being caught. Draco, recently divested of everything but his underwear, (having glamoured his Dark Mark while she was taking off her shoes) had just relieved Granger of her jumper and her denims, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed while she wrapped her legs around his middle, their mouths never leaving one another.

“I still ( _kiss_ ) don’t like you ( _kiss_ ),” Hermione assured him.

“Right ( _kiss_ ) back at you ( _kiss_ ).” Draco laid her down into the mattress, leaned back, and admired how thoroughly ravished the witch already looked.

Her wild curls cascaded over the black sheets, her eyes glazed over, the pupils blown wide, her breathing ragged and uneven, her lips swollen and bruised from his kisses, her skin flushed over her cheeks, neck, ears, and the tops of her gorgeous, perfect tits. Her red bra contrasted perfectly with her creamy skin. Draco licked over the skin of her breasts, marveling at the combined sweetness of her skin with the slight tang of sweat from their previous exertions. Reaching behind, he unhooked her bra, throwing it to the side and gazing for the first time upon her naked breasts in all their fucking marvelous glory. The nipples he had so thoroughly ravished with his hands earlier were somewhere between pink and brown. They beckoned to him.

He dipped his head and took the right one in his mouth and sucked.

“ _Gods_ , Draco.”

“Mmmmm. Keep saying my name like that and you’re going to get fucked, witch.”

He deposited a hot lick on her other nipple and ran his hands all over her stomach, her arched back, her tits. He wished he had two more hands so he could give her the proper attention she deserved. His hand reached down and cupped her hot cunt through the cloth of her lacy knickers, his middle finger running over her clit. Hermione bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Draco took it as encouragement and hooked his thumbs over the cloth of her knickers, pulling down until she was free of the lovely, but unwelcome garment. Draco licked down her stomach, kissing and touching her until he reached his goal. Pushing her legs apart, he looked up at Hermione and smirked before licking her slit to clit.

“ _Ahhhhh_ , Draco.” She thrashed on the bed. “ _More_.”

Remembering how she liked it last time, he set about making his favorite Gryffindor come apart on his tongue, his mouth making love to her beautiful, glorious cunt. His new favorite flavor. If Potty and Weasel could only see them now. Their worst enemy with his head buried between the thighs of the Gryffindor Dream Girl. When she came with his name on her lips, Draco had never felt more male, more virile and potent. He needed her _now_.

Freeing his cock from his too-tight underwear, he shimmied out of them and up Granger’s flushed, spent body, bestowing a tender kiss on her lips before forcing his tongue in her mouth. Their tongues battled for ages until Draco, overcome with need, came up for air, “I _need_ to fuck you. Please let me fuck you.”

She opened her legs invitingly and Draco pushed into her in one swift movement.

She gasped, “ _Draco_!”

He groaned into her neck, resisting the impulse to pound into her. If he thought her mouth felt good, he was nowhere near prepared for her pussy. No witch had ever felt this good. And if she kept saying his name like that he wasn’t going to last.

“Sweet _Salazar_ , you’re so fucking tight. _FUCK_ you feel so good.”

He began to move over her, fucking her slow and deep, teasing her and committing the feel of her to memory.

“Fuck me harder,” she gasped.

He began to pound into her. “ _Fuck_. _Yeah_. _Fuck_. _Uhh_. _So_. _Fucking_. _Perfect_.” he enunciated with every snap of his hips.

“You like that, Granger? You like getting your pussy pounded with Malfoy cock?”

“I fucking _love_ it.”

“ _Fuck_ , Granger you’re such a filthy little girl. You need to be punished.”

He pulled out of her, hissing at the loss of her perfect pussy, and flipped her over on her stomach. He laid his hand flat on the small of her back and bent down to lick the heart-shaped arse that started this whole thing back in September. He bit down, causing Hermione to hiss in pleasure.

“So beautiful, Granger.” SMACK!

Hermione hissed again.

“You like that?” SMACK!

Hermione bit her lip, nodding.

“Good.” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“You’re such a naughty girl, Granger,” he crawled up to whisper in her ear. “What would your friends say if they saw you moaning like a little slut for Draco Malfoy?” SMACK!

He licked the shell of her ear and she moaned. “Fuck me, Malfoy, _please_.”

_Fuck_! Why wasn’t he inside her again?

“You know what you’re going to do, Granger? You’re going to take my cock until you come all over it. And then you’re going to take it some more until I come deep inside you. Would you like that Granger, _hmmm_?” His tongue nibbled her earlobe.

“Do it.”

As he entered her from behind, she lifted off the bed, pushing back onto him, taking every inch of his cock.

“Fuck!” She felt even tighter from this angle, like her cunt was choking the life out of his cock. Not a bad way to die. He pounded into her, his hand slipping down to stroke her clit. They stayed like that for gods knows how long before the pressure in his balls became unbearable. Draco felt that he might die if he didn’t come soon, but he promised her an orgasm.

“Granger...I need…you to come for me.” He managed between grunts and thrusts to vocalize just how much he needed this. “Come for me, princess.” A few more flicks and thrusts later and she complied, clamping down on his cock with a wanton moan, his name spilling from her lips. That did it.

With a roar, he came so hard inside of her he felt like he might break her. Wave after wave of orgasmic bliss washed over the two of them. When they came down, Draco felt happier and more relaxed than he had all year.

Let the Gryffindorks smoke pot if they wanted to relax. He preferred to shag Hermione Granger until they both couldn’t see straight. Spent and sweaty, he rolled over onto his back, pulling her to his chest. The only sound in the room was their combined attempt to catch their breaths.

Draco couldn’t believe it. He had just had the most mind-blowing, unforgettable sex of his life with Hermione Granger and now he was pretty sure he was addicted to her. In his post-orgasmic state, he didn’t even care that this was a one-way ticket to hell that would certainly get him killed by the Dark Lord. All that mattered was that the object of his prurient fantasies had sucked him off, rendering him momentarily brain dead, let him eat her out twice, and had proven to be the best fuck of his life. Sure, there might be consequences, but if he could just fix the Vanishing Cabinet, then maybe…

“Why are you scowling?” she brought him back to reality. “Was it not…was _I_ not…”

Draco silenced her with a fierce kiss. “Granger, that was the best sex of my _life_.”

“Really?”

Draco nodded.

“Me too.” She grinned sweetly. He grinned back stupidly and kissed her again, running his hands up and down her naked back.

“You’re amazing” he whispered. She blushed prettily at the compliment.

He really did mean it. Aside from the fact that she was sensational in the sack, it amazed him that one minute she was this absolute sex goddess, begging him to fuck her harder and the next she was a shy, blushing little virgin. It was endearing, really. His grin became a full blown smile.

She gazed up at him with her lovely amber eyes. “Say, wasn’t I supposed to be speaking Parseltongue or something?”

He laughed, “The day is still young.” Pulling her even tighter to him, he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the slight green apple scent of her shampoo. She threw a languid arm across his chest, snuggled her head closer under the crook of his neck, and felt sleep overtake her. Within moments, both were asleep.


	10. So Long and Thanks for All the...What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco's respective thoughts while doing their respective walks of shame.

Hermione was the first to wake a couple of hours later. She was so warm and comfortable and…apparently tangled up in the arms of Draco Malfoy.

She was surprised that she didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse at all the dirty things they had done to each other that day, but she was just too sated to care. Sighing with contentment, she allowed herself to admire him while he slept.

He could probably kill someone with that jawline, the handsome little shit. And he looked so peaceful…almost innocent.

_Almost_ , she caught herself, remembering the wicked things he whispered in her ear.

Draco stirred as though he could sense that she was looking at him. Hermione froze, hoping that he wouldn’t regret everything they had done after he had woken from his post-coital nap. She tensed as the Slytherin Prince opened his sleepy, silver eyes.

“Hey.” She said, lamely.

“Hey.” He chuckled, his voice hoarse from sleep. This girl really was unbelievable. After all the things she had done to him today, all she could say for herself was “hey”. He pulled the hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear, breathing deeply, enjoying the warmth of the pretty witch in his arms.

She smiled. He smiled. Her eyes shifted.

“So…um…I guess…thank you. For all the orgasms.”

Draco barked in laughter. _Wow_! She really was something else. “Anytime, Granger. I can honestly say the pleasure was all mine.” He smirked wiggling his eyebrows.

She blushed, returning his smirk. “I should go.” She started, out of the bed.

“Why?” Draco was slightly panicked. He needed to _lock_ this down, or at least make sure he could have her again. “I still have to uh…teach you Parseltongue, remember?”

Hermione laughed. “Next time.”

_Next time!_

“I need to get back to the Common Room before Ron and Harry come looking for me.” She wiggled into her clothes.

Draco edged towards the end of the bed and grabbed her, holding her back against his chest and whispered in her ear, “When can we do this again?”

She grinned. “Well I’m very important and busy, so I probably won’t have time for—“

“Tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Tomorrow? So soon?” she teased.

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation, kissing his way from her jaw down neck. “Say yes.”

_Merlin that feels good. But don’t give in. You're the one with the vagina. **You** can set the pace._

“Yes.” _Or not._

“Yes, what?” he bit down on her neck.

“Yes, Draco?” She guessed right. He rewarded her by pulling her face to his and kissing her deeply. When they broke the kiss, he caressed her face and smacked her on the bum, earning him a giggle from the witch.

He smiled briefly before his face fell, having just remembered “Oh shite. What about contraception? I forgot to do the spell.” He panicked slightly.

“We don’t have to worry about that. I take a pill for it.”

“A pill. Is that some sort of thing Muggles use instead of potions?” _Oh bugger, I’ve done it. I’ve gone and knocked up Hermione Granger._

She giggled again at his ignorance, never having heard anyone put it quite that way. “Basically. They’re just as effective as the contraceptive spell.”

Begrudgingly, he relaxed. “Alright then, Granger. I’ll trust your judgment on that.”

“Smartest thing you’ve said all day.”

He rolled his eyes, grinning at the silly witch. “The smartest thing I said today was when I told you I had to fuck you.”

Hermione blushed. Draco grinned, enjoying how easy it was to turn her skin that lovely rosy color. “Now run along back to the lion’s den, princess. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

__________________________________

 

Hermione practically skipped back to Gryffindor Tower. This morning she had been so worried that Draco Malfoy was going to try to make her life hell. Her cares had now completely disappeared, as they had appeared to come to a sort of…understanding.

She had gotten laid. So very, beautifully, expertly laid. And it was awesome.

Oh sure, he was all kinds of wrong for her. But everything they had done felt _so bloody good._ Maybe they were headed straight to hell, but the world had already gone to shit. If she died next month, or next week, or tomorrow (after she went to see Malfoy, of course), she would at least be able to say that she had experienced true passion, even if it was with someone she couldn’t stand outside of bed.

_Did_ she still hate him? I mean, there were many parts of him that she liked _very_ much. His tongue, his cock, those penetrating eyes.

Hermione sniggered at the memory of the Sorting Hat’s words, “ _Before you know it you’ll be takin’ risks and not carin’ at all about the consequences._ ” For the first time since she started Hogwarts, Hermione felt like a true Gryffindor. 

______________________________________

 

Draco was fucked. Truly and completely fucked. What had passed between him and Granger was _hot_ and needy and sweaty and he couldn’t wait to have it again tomorrow, but it was also…sincere and tender.

I mean they _cuddled._ He had played with her hair and cradled her face and told her that she was amazing. If he had done all of those things just to wheedle the girl back into bed with him, it wouldn’t have bothered him. The sonovabitch of it all was that he had _wanted_ to do all of those things. He had “fully participated” to coin his phrase.

Did he fancy her? I mean…he fancied the way he had her today. If she was like that all the time, then yeah. He fancied the fuck out of her. What he didn’t much care for was the way she had no reservations about hitting him, yelling at him, goading him on. The way she couldn’t seem to help but piss him off. She could be a right bitch, but if he was honest with himself, that was the Granger he first noticed.

She was stimulating. And intriguing. He spent more time thinking about that witch than all the other witches he knew put together. When she argued with him or yelled at him…she put herself in his head. He couldn’t seem to get her out. She was like a parasite…an infuriating, sexy, prissy, delicious little parasite. Maybe all those years of fighting were just foreplay.

It was inevitable that this would eventually happen. It should have happened a hell of a lot sooner and it would have if he hadn't cockblocked himself from her by picking on her. Those years of teasing her, of belittling her blood status, which was _just_ ridiculous no matter what his parents said, were a total waste of time. Time they could have better spent fucking each other cross-eyed.

He hadn’t really believed that she possessed “filthy blood” for a while now. No self-respecting Slytherin really believed that Muggleborns stole their magic from wizards. That was just utter goddamn nonsense. Crabbe and Goyle, were both as pure blooded as they come. But you’d have to be helplessly thick to think that those two knobs were better than the likes of Hermione Granger.

It was like believing in God. He hadn’t done for a long while now and if it did happen to be true, then he still didn’t give a shit.

Maybe they were awful for each other. But Draco _really_ didn’t care. If he had known when he woke up this morning, looking forward to another shit day, that he would have sex with Hermione Granger, he wouldn’t have wasted any time being in a bad mood. He wouldn’t have snapped at those third year Hufflepuffs. He would have written his mother and told her he loved her. He would have been fucking _grateful_ for his existence, pathetic as it seemed lately.

Maybe she was an uppity little swot, but who _cared_ when she blushed so sweetly or when she had admitted that he was the best she had ever had. _Take that, Weasley._

Fuck it. Maybe he wouldn’t live to see his seventeenth birthday. Maybe he’d die tomorrow for all he knew (after he shagged Granger of course). At least he could say that he felt truly content just once in his life.


	11. Apologies and Amortentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavender has a chat with Hermione. Ron apologizes. Slughorn is an absolute moron and has the students brewing Amortentia.

The next morning Hermione woke, feeling slightly sore between her legs.

_Oh, yeah. I had all of the sex with Malfoy_.

She sniggered. The Slytherin Prince had made no effort to be gentle. Maybe tonight _she_ could be in charge. She sniggered again at the thought of bringing him to heel.

“What are you laughing about?” Lavender Brown usually woke a couple of hours before everyone else in the dorm so she could get a head start on her behemoth of a beauty routine.

“Just something funny I read about in a book in the library yesterday.” Lavender was nosy as hell and one of the worst gossips in the castle, but Hermione knew that the girl’s interest would dry up at mention of the words “book” and “library”.

“Whatever. I haven’t seen Ron all weekend. Do you know if he went to Hogsmeade?”

“He went with me and Harry.”

“ _Hmmm_. I’m sure.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. _So Lav Lav wants to be a bitch today?_ Lavender had no subtlety, even when she was being passive aggressive. She was always suspicious of Ron and Hermione’s friendship, having known that the two used to fancy each other. Luckily, she did _not_ know that the two had acted on it earlier that year. Hermione could only imagine how unendurable she would be if she knew.

“Where did you get those love bites?”

Hermione looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there were several hickeys on either side of her neck, ranging from just below her ear to the bottom of her neck where it met her shoulder. Some were darker than others, but _all_ would need to be glamoured. _So the Ferret likes to bite?_

Of all the people to notice, it had to be Lavender Bloody Brown. “Um…nobody you know.” How else could she convey the subtext _Not Ron_?

“ _Hmmm_. I’m sure.” 

________________________________

 

“Hermione!” She turned around to find a panting Ron Weasley scrambling down the stairs after her. “Hermione, where _were_ you yesterday?”

“Studying.” _And getting fucked in half by Draco Malfoy._

“Yeah, I figured. But I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk about…you know? The thing I said on Saturday.”

Hermione stopped him. “Ron, you really don’t need to—“

“But I _want_ to, Hermione. I broke my promise and I’m so sorry for it. _Please_ don’t be mad at me. And if you want me to hex Malfoy’s tongue out of his head, just say the word.”

_Nope. I’ve got plans for that tongue_.

Hermione chuckled at her sweet friend. This was the reason she had fancied him to begin with. He might have inherited his temper from Molly Weasley, but he really was the most sincere, gentle person she knew, traits she assumed he inherited from Arthur Weasley.

“It’s alright, Ron. I was pretty upset on Saturday, but I got over it. Just maybe…in the future…recognize that you tend to overshare when you partake in mind-altering substances.”

Ron laughed. “I’m not planning on smoking again for a while. I ate a _pile_ of chicken wings when we got back. It’ll all go straight to my arse.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “And…hey. Don’t worry about Malfoy. I’ll handle him.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

She smirked. “I’ve been told.” 

____________________________________________

 

Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Granger was sitting with Potty and Weasel again, laughing and joking. How had he never noticed her laugh before? Apparently she did it _all the time_.

He willed himself not to stare too long at her, even though he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since their clandestine meeting yesterday. He couldn’t wait until tonight. Today he had woken up after sleeping soundly for the first time in months. He couldn’t remember the last time he greeted the day so enthusiastically. Double Potions with the Gryffindors, Arithmancy with Granger, and an evening of fucking the Gryffindor Golden Girl senseless…why _wouldn’t_ he be delighted on such a fine morning?

Is this what getting laid did to him? Turned him into a positive person? What if he was actually…a _nice person_ or something?

Nah, probably not.

He chanced another look up at the table. Granger had her eyes on him. She looked away immediately, blushing adorably. Draco grinned, continuing to look at her, willing her to Gryffindor-up and look back. When she did, he grinned triumphantly and winked at her. She bit her lip trying to hide a smirk and suddenly became very interested in her waffles.

“What are you smiling about, Draco?”

Draco feigned a look of innocence to Blaise. “Nothing. Just thinking about something I saw in the library yesterday.” Blaise was a wretched gossip, but Draco figured his interest would wane at mention of the word “library”.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “You spend too much time studying this year.” Truthfully, Draco hadn’t studied in months. But Blaise didn’t know about Draco’s assignment from the Dark Lord. He just assumed Draco spent all his time off studying. “You need to get _laid_ man. You’re wasting your youth.”

Draco smirked. Little did Blaise know that he had gotten laid…so wonderfully laid, last night and would do so again tonight.

“Yeah Blaise. I’ll get right on that.” 

________________________________________________

 

Slughorn announced that because Valentine’s Day was coming up, they would be brewing Amortentia. Hermione remembered at the beginning of the year when Slughorn presented the potion to the class that she could smell spearmint toothpaste, reminiscent of Ron. She knew she wouldn’t smell that now, but wasn’t sure what would replace that particular scent. It was fascinating to think that the mere smell of a potion could reveal truths about yourself that you never knew.

Hermione was gathering the ingredients she needed from the storage cabinet when she heard a small, almost Umbridge-esque cough. She turned slightly, as the source of the sound came closer. She could make out a figure with white blond hair out of the corner of her eye, and detected the clean spicy scent that announced Draco Malfoy was sharing her space.

“Alright, Granger?”

“Malfoy.”

“Sleep well last night?” He whispered and traced a finger up her arm.

“Could you pass me the Ashwinder eggs?”

“What do I get in return?” He cheeked with a saucy smirk.

“My undying appreciation.”

“So it’s business before pleasure, is it?” He handed her the Aswinder eggs. As she went to reach for them he pulled back.

“Malfoy,” she reprimanded him lightly.

“Granger,” he mimicked the same inflection.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. She could see that he wanted to flirt.

“What, you want to fool around in here or something? Where _anyone_ could walk in?”

“Didn’t seem to stop you yesterday in the library.”

“That was different. Hand me the eggs.”

“You’re no fun.” He conceded, handing her the eggs, but not without sneaking an arm around her waist to grope her arse in the process.

“Could you _not_ be a prat?”

“What can I say, Granger? I’m an only child born into an obscenely wealthy family. I’m used to getting my way” he teased.

She rolled her eyes again and exhaled loudly, muttering something that sounded like “so spoiled,” when she walked by him. Draco was delighted to note that she swayed her hips slightly, aware that his eyes would be planted firmly on her arse as she walked away. 

_______________________________________________

 

An hour later the room reeked of lust. Everyone wore the same dopey grin on their face. The dungeons, while usually freezing even in June, suddenly were unbearably warm. Jumpers were removed, ties were loosened, buttons undone, and sleeves rolled up. It was a Pandora’s Box of teenage hormones.

While she was certainly not immune to the charms of her flawlessly brewed Amortentia, Hermione couldn’t believe that Slughorn thought it would be a good idea for a bunch of horny teenagers locked in a dungeon to make a potion which lowered their inhibitions and made them impossibly more DTF than they already were. She didn’t miss the hot, lecherous looks Malfoy threw her way or the way Ron would make occasional eye contact, then look away quickly, his ears turning pink. She was glad Lavender was too daft to study N.E.W.T. Potions or she’d do everything possible to mark her territory around Ron, bitch that she was.

Hermione inhaled her own potion, confused at how her preferences had seemed to have done a complete one-eighty since the beginning of the year. She smelled old books, strawberries, and a clean spicy smell which she immediately recognized as Malfoy’s cologne.

Well…fuck a duck. 

___________________________________________

 

Draco was having about the same time of it. He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the way Weasley kept looking over at Granger. But that didn’t stop him from harboring lusty, unspeakable thoughts for the Muggleborn.

He had been hard ever since she removed her jumper and undid a few buttons on her shirt, which seemed to be clinging to her in a less-than-lady-like way. She pulled her wild hair up into a ponytail, exposing that lovely neck which she had no doubt glamoured to hide the love bites he was certain he had left on her from yesterday. He licked his lips at the thought of dragging his tongue from the now exposed nape of her neck all the way down her spine.

He had known before he even gathered the ingredients for his potion, from the moment Slughorn announced that they would be brewing Amortentia today, that it would smell of her. The scents coming from the pearly fumes of his cauldron reminded him of green apples, vanilla, and a distinctly feminine, sharp smell he immediately recognized as the very thing Granger had let him feast upon twice yesterday. In a single afternoon she had imprinted her smell, taste, and exquisite warmth into his mind.

He wondered what she smelled in her potion. From the way she kept glancing over at him, and the lovely pink tinge in her cheeks, he had a pretty good guess.


	12. Stop Sucking on My Neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco have a discussion about propriety.

It had been the longest Potions lesson Hermione could ever remember. A true test from Merlin himself. Arithmancy was better, as Hermione was able to sit in the front of the class, taking notes and keeping to herself, but that didn’t stop Malfoy from waiting for her in the hall after class and pulling her into a nearby alcove before slamming his lips down on hers.   
“Malfoy!” She exclaimed, pushing him off of her. “What are you doing? Can’t you wait until tonight?”

“No I _bloody well_ cannot. Not after that Potions class.” He claimed her lips again. This time she didn’t protest. She threw herself into the kiss, opening her mouth to allow him access to her tongue, which he claimed gratefully. He pushed her up against the wall, his tongue playing with her own. Sucking and tasting her, allowing her fragrance to penetrate his senses. He was pretty sure that if it were possible, he’d powder her and snort her like a drug.

Hermione pulled back when the bell rang announcing lunch. “We should go.”

“Yeah, Granger. Go eat. You’ll need your strength for later,” his tone full of promise.

She rolled her eyes in response. “No one can see us leaving together. I’ll go first.” She pulled out a small mirror from her bag to examine her appearance, as she did not wish to announce to the entire castle that she had just spent the past quarter of an hour snogging in an alcove. She fixed her shirt, smoothed her hair, checked her neck, and fixed Malfoy with a serious look.

“Also, could you refrain in the future from leaving marks all over my neck? Lavender Brown noticed them this morning before I could cast a glamour and I’d rather not prance around the castle looking like a large pellet of Ferret food.” Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Cute. And also…not a chance. If you’re so concerned about it, maybe you should fix yourself before some nosy bimbo has a chance to notice.”

“You’re not worried someone will find out?”

“Granger, even if Brown had _irrefutable_ proof that it was _me_ hooking up with you, nobody would ever believe her.”

“Maybe, but for the sake of decorum—“

“Leave _off_ , Granger. I’m not going to hold back when we’re together. If I want to pull you into an alcove and snog you, I will. If I want to grope your arse in Potions, I will. And if I want to suck on your neck when I’m fucking you, I bloody well _will_.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Careful, Malfoy. I enjoy you, I really do, but don’t think for a _moment_ that I’m one of your Slytherin whores who’ll just let you do whatever you want to her. If it’s going to be like that then we can end this right now.”

“Why the bloody hell are you so offended? All I’m saying is that it’s unreasonable to expect me not to leave a love bite or two. Furthermore, I don’t think that’s _really_ what you want. You certainly didn’t seem to complain about anything I did to you yesterday.”

“You are the most impossible person I’ve ever met! Why can I not have _one_ conversation with you that doesn’t end in me wanting to castrate you?”

“And deprive yourself, Granger? Look…all I’m saying is that in the grand scheme of things, this…thing we’re doing is a hell of a lot more risky than me leaving a mark on your neck.”

“So by that logic, we should just stop entirely?”

Draco’s heart rate increased. “ _Whoa_ , calm down. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Neither one of us wants that. And _you’re_ the impossible one by the way. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met and you call _me_ spoiled, but you can’t stand to not have things _exactly_ your way. You don’t _actually_ care about the love bites. You’re just miffed that I’m not some cowering little fuckboy like Weasley who’ll let you just walk all over him.”

She glowered, “Keep it up, Malfoy and it’ll be a lonely night for you and your wand hand.”

Draco bristled. He could see he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her the way he was going. “Alright! If it’s so important to you, then how about we compromise? Before you leave, I’ll _personally_ heal any love bites I leave in visible places. That’ll keep the Brown bint off your back and we can still go crazy on each other. How does that sound?”

Hermione was surprised to hear the word "compromise" fall from Malfoy’s lips. She huffed. Maybe she was being a little unreasonable.

“Yeah, good, okay. But you have _got_ to be more careful when we’re in public. Leering at me in the Great Hall, groping me in Potions class…we’ll get caught if you keep that up.”

“So if we get caught…what then? We stop?”

Hermione sighed. “I don’t know. I just know that neither one of us needs the extra complication. I…I don’t want to stop, but if we’re going to keep doing this, then we need to be clever about it.”

He released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. She was right. Of course she was right. And she did say that she didn’t want to stop. That was promising. He knew that he would probably agree to almost anything if it meant that she would keep seeing him.

He softened. “Okay, Hermione. Whatever you want.”

Her eyes widened at his use of her name. She wasn’t aware that he even knew it. Her face flushed hotly and she looked up at him shyly through her eyelashes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Draco. See you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” He grinned like a fool.


	13. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Hermione have a chat.

Hermione finished her homework early, knowing she would probably not have the opportunity to do so later. She was in the library, getting a head start on a fourteen-inch essay Vector had assigned when a figure plopped down in the seat next to her. Hermione turned to find Ginny grinning at her with eyes like the devil.

“May I help you, Ginny?”

“Maybe. I just heard the most _delicious_ gossip from Lavender Brown.” Her eyes danced with mirth as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“I don’t doubt it. Stories which are utter and complete bull-shit are _often_ delicious.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I haven’t decided yet.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Ginny was every bit as impish as Fred and George and though Hermione loved her dearly, she knew she would need to proceed with caution. There was no doubt in her mind as to the nature of the “delicious gossip” Lavender had been spreading.

“Let me see your neck.”

Hermione scoffed. “What a _ridiculous_ request. You can’t see it clearly enough right now?”

“Awwww. How cute. You’re being stupid.”

“There’s nothing on my neck, Ginny. Lavender thought she saw some love bits this morning, but she was mistaken. She was just being…Lavender. She basically accused me of hooking up with Ron, you know.”

“But you _did_ hook up with Ron.”

“Not this _weekend_ , Ginny. Plus, she doesn’t know about that and if there is a God, she never will.”

“I guess you’re right. She was just being a bint. There’s nothing on your neck.” Ginny shifted in her seat and pulled out her Herbology book.

“Thank you.” Hermione returned to her essay.

“ _Finite Incantatum!_ ”

Hermione’s hands flew up to cover her neck, but not quickly enough. Ginny giggled wickedly, earning her an imperious glare from Madam Pince, which did nothing to suppress her glee.

“Oh my gods! You’re _covered_. Who _did_ this to you?”

“Nobody, Ginny. _Please_ drop it.” Hermione whispered desperately, mouthing the glamour incantation covertly over her neck.

“How do you expect me to drop this? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. I’m your best girl friend, Hermione. Whenever you get snogged, you’re supposed to tell me about it _immediately_.”

“I’m not seeing anyone. Not exactly.”

“Hermione Jean Granger I will _never_ let this go. If you don’t tell me who’s responsible for that _carnage_ on your neck right this second, so help me Merlin I will raze this library and all the books within it. I don’t care if I get expelled. I don’t care if I go to _Azkaban_. You _will_ tell me.”

“ _Okay_ , okay, fine. But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

“Agreed.”

“And you can’t react.”

Ginny scoffed. “Well that’s utter fucking bullshit. Of _course_ I’m going to react. I will, however, promise not to _over_ react.”

Hermione huffed. “Okay. It’s…um. _Oh gods._ ” She whispered, massaging her temples and squeezing her eyes shut. “It was Malfoy.”

“ _MALFOY_?”

“ _Shhh_. You promised you wouldn’t over react.”

“Uh, _excuse_ me, but when Hermione Granger is getting hickeys planted on her neck by Draco Malfoy, I can’t help but piss myself a little bit.”

Hermione groaned. “Thanks for the reminder that this is _completely_ mental.”

“ _How?_ I mean…yeah, sure, you’re both great looking people, but…I mean… _Malfoy_?”

“Yeah.”

“ _Draco_ Malfoy?”

“No, Ginny. Narcissa Malfoy. Of _course_ , Draco Malfoy you bint.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to wrap my head around it.” Ginny mused with gaping eyes. “When?”

“Yesterday in the library.”

“ _This_ library?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You can be about as thick as Ronald sometimes. _Yes_. This. Library.”

Ginny made a face at her friend. “ _Now_ who’s being the bint? I’m just trying to make sure I understand. You and Malfoy. Snogged. Yesterday. In this library.”

“…Yeah.”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That…that thing you did. The hesitating. It’s one of your tells. Something I said wasn’t _one hundred percent_ accurate, so you hesitated like you wanted to correct me.”

Hermione snorted. “I don’t do that.”

Ginny dismissed her friend, a contemplative look on her face. After several moments she looked up, shooting a significant look at her friend. “ _Snogged_.”

“Huh?”

“ _Snogged_ , Hermione. I said ‘You and Malfoy _snogged_ yesterday in the library’. You have confirmed everything in that statement except for one word. _Snogged_. So if you two didn’t snog, what did you do?”

“We _did_ snog.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Merlin Hermione, keep _up._ For being the Brightest Witch of Her Age you can sure as hell be thick when it suits you.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Now.” Ginny started sweetly. “What _else_ did you and the Ferret do besides snog?”

“We…snogged. And he…you know…gave me these love bites.”

“Uh, huh. What else?” Ginny waited patiently.

“There was some groping.”

“And?”

“I sort of” Hermione gulped “gavhimablwjb.”

“What was that?”

“ _Blow job,_ ” Hermione seethed.

Ginny guffawed. “You put _Draco Malfoy’s_ penis in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I _wanted_ to, Ginny. What difference does it make? Look, I don’t even know how it happened, alright. One minute we were arguing, which turned into banter, which turned into flirting, which turned into snogging, which—“

“Yeah, I get it. I just need a minute. You have to understand that this is just the most unbe-fucking-lievable thing I’ve ever heard in my life, so I need a moment to process.”

Ginny sat with her palms flat on the table, staring into the distance for what seemed like forever. Finally she blinked. “Okay. The moment has passed. Anything _else_ you’d like to share with the class, Hermione?”

“Well…he sort of…um…returned the favor?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“The latter.”

“Oh, well in that case… _seriously_?” A glint of mischief twinkled in her eyes. She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. “How’d he do?”

Hermione couldn’t look at her friend. With a shrug of her shoulders she responded “I mean…he was…you know…amazing.”

“Okay, Hermione, do me a favor, yeah? The next time you share any news that comes half-way close to this magnitude, you must do so in a location where I can have an appropriate reaction, okay? Like, right now, it’s physically _paining_ me that I can’t jump up and down and scream.”

“Duly noted.”

“So the Ferret is good with his tongue?”

Hermione nodded, smirking. “I might as well tell you everything. We did all of this in the back of the library. But we left the library to…well...”

“No.” Ginny’s voice was as dry as the Sahara Desert. “The next words out of your mouth will not be, ‘we left the library to shag’. They just won’t.”

“Well alright then.” Hermione returned to her essay once again.

Ginny gaped at her for several seconds. She felt as though any moment Fred and George would pop up behind a book shelf and assure her that it had all been an elaborate joke. When it didn’t happen, she spoke. “So. You shagged. Malfoy. You shagged Malfoy. You and Malfoy shagged. You and _Draco_ Malfoy shagged. The two of you—“

“Yeah, Ginny. I _shagged_ Malfoy. And you know what? Tonight, after dinner, I’m going to do it again. Probably a couple of times. And I’m going to _keep_ shagging Malfoy until one of us gets sick of the other. So there.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am, Ginny. I’m dead ass serious. If you want to try to talk me out of it, that’s fine, but I’ve made up my mind and there’s nothing you can say that will change it.”

“I’m not going to try to talk you out of it.”

“You’re not?”

“Look…Draco Malfoy is a total fucking prat. Like…he might be _completely_ evil. He’s probably going to end up a Death Eater if he isn’t one already. I mean, he really is just the most _god-awful_ human being—“

“Yeah, yeah, Ginny. I get it. I’m fucking a piece of human garbage.”

“But _despite_ all of that, pretty much every girl at Hogwarts has fantasized about him. I mean…we all _hate_ ourselves for it, but we still do it. So I have to know, Hermione.” Ginny sighed. “I need to you tell me every single detail of the Ferret sex.”

Hermione blushed into her hand. “We should probably leave the library then.”

Ginny giggled. “Remind me never to doubt that you’re a bad ass bitch ever again.”


	14. Already Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco makes a decision. Harry discusses his concerns with Hermione.

Draco left the Great Hall, making a point to saunter by the Gryffindor table so Granger would see him leave. He spent the afternoon working on the Vanishing Cabinet, and he felt that he had truly earned this reward. He was itching to get his hands on her again.

She arrived at the room five minutes after he did. He was sitting on a couch, in front of the fireplace. When she arrived, his eyes flashed and he shot her a smirk.

“Granger.”

“Malfoy.”

For a moment it was a tad awkward. What had happened the day before just sort of _happened_. This was different. This had been planned. Hermione stood at the door, feeling stupid, wishing he would be the first to say something. He looked at her expectedly and patted the seat next to him to motion her to join him. She made her way to the couch, removed her shoes, and sat next to him, tucking her feet under her. He threw an arm behind her and dragged her closer to him until her face was next to his.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” She was blushing. Having just relived the previous evening by spilling the details to Ginny, she could hardly wait to feel those warm hands on her again.

As if on cue, Draco cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her bottom lip before dipping in and claiming it with his own. The kiss got interesting when Draco shifted, pulling Hermione into his lap to straddle him. She complied eagerly, bucking her hips against him. He responded in kind.

“I thought about this all day.” His voice was full of sex. Hermione moaned lightly in response and dipped her head to his neck, licking, biting, and tasting. Draco moaned at her attentions and tightened his grip on her hips. Hermione felt powerful. She could tell he was really enjoying what she was doing to him.

“I see…I…wasn’t the only one.” She hummed in agreement, loosening his tie. The two slowly undressed each other, never ceasing in their kissing and grinding. By the time they were naked, both of them were practically gasping for air.

“What do you want, Granger?” Draco asked as he slid his finger over her soaking slit.

She bucked her hips at the contact. “You” she managed with a hiss.

“You’ll have to be more specific, princess. I know you can be.” He inserted a finger and bucked at a pleasurable rhythm that tortured Hermione. It wasn’t enough.

She sucked in a breath of air and gathered her Gryffindor courage. “I want you to fuck me.”

He beamed at the request. “ _How_ do you want me to fuck you?”

“Like this. Just like this.” The two hadn’t moved from the couch and she was still straddling his lap.

He answered her wordlessly, sliding into her in a single slick movement.

“ _Yes, please_.” She wasn’t really sure what she was begging for. But he gave it to her all the same. They met each other at every thrust. He bucked into her and she pushed back, riding him into the cushions. His fingers dug into her hips so deeply, she would have cried out in pain had she been capable of feeling it. She clutched and clawed his back and his neck, leaving delicate little ribbons of blood. He slammed into her from below.

“That’s it.” SLAM. “Ride me.” SLAM. “Take my cock, Granger.” SLAM.

She mewled above him. He tugged her hair as he dragged her face to his in a desperate kiss. His tongue thrust with the rhythm of his cock. His body shook as he kissed her, as though she was the only thing preventing him from combusting on the spot. They thrust even harder against each other, her clit grinding into his pelvis, their mouths never leaving each other.

Hermione came wildly, moaning against Draco’s feverish mouth. He released her and pulled back to watch her throw back her head and wail, her body flushed and glowing. She continued to ride him as her orgasm washed over her in waves. The way she looked when she rode him…when she came…she was the most divine creature he had ever seen. Her head thrown back, her stretched muscles, her flushed skin…the sight of her pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside her, clutching her body in support.

She fell limp in his arms and they both struggled to catch their breath. Draco pulled out of her with a hiss and grabbed her by the legs to secure her place in his lap. He stood, and with somewhat shaky legs, walked them both over to the bed. Hermione giggled appreciatively. He set her gently on the surface and crawled next to her, pulling her flush against him, and covered them both with the sheets. He ran his fingers up and down her forearm before finding her hand with his and playing with the delicate fingers.

Neither of them said a word. Had they spoken, they would have sounded like lovers. Not like two people who had spent their entire childhoods hating each other. Not like two people on different sides of a war.

After a while, Draco asked tentatively “Granger?”

“Hmm?”

“Are we barmy for doing this?”

She shifted, resting her chin on his chest while he played with her hair. “Probably. Do you want to stop?”

He swallowed. “I don’t think I can.”

She smiled sadly and planted a kiss on his chest. “I don’t think I can, either.”

He brought her face up to his and kissed her with fire. Hermione could taste his fear. She ran her hand down his body and stroked his length. He was hard again and she straddled him while they kissed and guided him back inside her. They rocked slowly, kissing and breathing heavily into one another. They clutched each other’s bodies desperately, their bodies sweaty from their previous exertions, and whispered their moans into each other.

This was different from everything they had done thus far. It was more than just the animalistic fucking that they had engaged in. This was intimate. It felt real. Hermione came first, biting down on Draco’s shoulder to stifle her moan. When Draco followed close behind, he knew he was already lost.

______________________________________

 

On the way back to the dungeons, Draco replayed the night in his head.

It had been _way_ too hard to leave that room. They held each other for a while after the “lovemaking,” both too frightened of their own treacherous voices to speak about what had passed between them. Draco had allowed himself to kiss the top of her head. He recalled the way her face looked when they were tangled up in the sheets. From that angle he noticed things he had never seen before.

He had never noticed that her eyelashes were so long. When she blinked, they fluttered like little black butterflies across the top of her cheeks.

Her hair wasn’t frizzy, as most people assumed. It was curly and riotous. It was the only thing about her appearance that wasn’t prim and proper, the only thing that hinted at the passionate woman she really was.

Her hands were _small_. He played with them, holding them up again his much larger hands which swallowed hers whole.

She had the softest skin and it smelled, and even tasted, like vanilla. She was a treat with her aphrodisiac vanilla skin and her wild, green apple-scented hair.

He couldn’t fool himself any longer that he disliked her. He also knew that this fact alone could get them both killed and it tore at him. He didn’t want to let her go, but having her in his life…him being in her life…it was risky. Draco wasn’t a coward, but he was no Gryffindor either.

He supposed it was too late either way. Even if they stopped, the damage was already done. There was only one thing he could do.

He turned a corner down a dark corridor the students never entered. He knocked on the door at the end. A few moments later, a rather disoriented Severus Snape appeared. He crooked at eyebrow at his godson.

“Uncle Sev, I’m sorry to disrupt you at this hour. But I need you to teach me Occlumency.”

______________________________________

 

The next day Hermione sat in the Common Room with Harry and Ron working on homework. She was having a difficult time concentrating on Ancient Runes. All she could think about was this monumental new secret she was keeping from her two best friends. She knew she should have felt guilty about it…but she just…didn’t. She knew they would never understand. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Malfoy was a deplorable bully whose favorite target had always been the three of them, Harry had this ridiculous idea that Malfoy was a Death Eater.

“You’re being rather quiet.” Harry nudged her.

“I’m studying Harry.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to tell you…you need to be careful around Malfoy.”

Hermione’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Surely he didn’t know! _Don’t overreact. You don’t know what he means by that._

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, not looking up from her book.

“Dean said something to Ron and I the other day…it’s probably completely mental but you should at least be on your guard.”

Hermione looked up from her book. “Speak, Potter.”

Harry chuckled. “It’s mad. I know. You’ll laugh when I tell you. But…Dean seems to think that Malfoy’s got some sort of weird crush on you.”

Hermione couldn’t contain her laugh. It was especially funny that Harry thought her laughter was prompted by the mere impossibility of the notion that Malfoy could ever fancy her. It wasn’t his fault. He had no way of knowing.

“That’s just… _wow_. Why would he think that?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Apparently he stares at you a lot. And Dean thought he seemed a bit jealous at me that day in Hogsmeade when I said…well…you know.” Ron blushed guiltily.

Hermione bit her lip. “So I need to worry about him…why exactly?”

Harry sighed. “I just…I have this sinking suspicion that he’s up to something this year.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry we’ve been over this. Draco Malfoy is not a Death Eater. He’s a _kid_. What would You-Know-Who _possibly_ want with him?”

“I don’t know exactly but I just have this feeling. And I’ve been watching him on the map, and—“

“Wait, _what_?” Hermione panicked slightly. If he could see Malfoy on the map, then that meant he could see her too. With Malfoy. Alone. Locked in a room together for hours.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching him and half the time he doesn’t even show up on the map. It makes _no_ sense. I think it’s because he’s in the Room of Requirement. That room must not show up on the map.”

Hermione felt conflicted. On the one hand…thank. _Merlin_. For that. But on the other hand…Malfoy spending all his free time in the Room of Requirement was kind of dodgy, as much as she refused to admit it to Harry. She simply would not enable his crazy.

“So you think…what exactly? That room can turn into anything, Harry. Maybe he’s using it for something completely innocent. Maybe he just wants a quiet place to study.” _Or_ _fuck_.

“Maybe. But that still doesn’t explain why he spends most of his time there. And what was he doing in Knockturn Alley this summer? We know his family’s in deep with Voldemort. His father went to Azkaban. Maybe Malfoy’s just taking his dad’s place.”

Hermione shook her head. It couldn’t be true. Malfoy was rude and arrogant, and a buffet of other unpleasant adjectives most of the time. But he was far from evil. He was too smart to get tangled up with the Death Eaters. Plus he was just so…so…

After sex he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world. He made her feel wanted and beautiful. He was almost…sweet. Not someone capable of carrying out nefarious schemes for You-Know-Who.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful around him. If he is a Death Eater…it’s not going to be good for you if he’s got his eye on you,” Harry said.

“If Malfoy is a Death Eater then it’s not going to be good for me whether he fancies me or not. Because…I mean I don’t have a list or anything unless you count my blood status, my friendship with you, my involvement with the Order of the Phoenix—“

“I know. Just…watch him, alright. That’s all I’m saying. I know you’d never want anything to do with him, but just…be careful. Keep an eye on him.”

Hermione felt a pang of guilt at her friend’s concern. If he only knew how off base he was.

“Alright, Harry. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment folks! I'm still new to this, so comments are gold. Also, if you like this, check out my other fic "Hot for Teacher."


	15. So...It's Like A Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco begins to get attached.

The next few weeks went by in a whirl. Between his classes, working on the Vanishing Cabinet, his Occlumency lessons with Snape, Quidditch practice, prefect duties, and seeing Granger every other night, Draco was dead on his feet. He had taken to sleeping in the Room of Requirement after Granger would leave. The bed was large, comfortable, and it smelled like her. In that bed…their bed…he was able to manage a few hours of sleep each night.

He wanted to ask her to stay with him, but he wasn’t quite brave enough. He worried that he’d scare her off if she knew how important to him she’d become. He felt like such a ponce when he thought about it.

Draco had never _needed_ a person before. He knew he loved his mother, but it was more of a matter of fact than necessity. He was putting himself through hell this year trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet and figure out how in Merlin’s saggy left testicle he could _possibly_ kill Albus Dumbledore, because he _wanted_ his mother to live. It wasn’t a compulsion…it was a choice. He knew he didn’t rely on his mother the way he had come to rely on Granger. Even her scent which she left behind on the pillows helped him sleep.

Their affair wasn’t the easiest thing to keep a secret. Many of his Slytherin friends noticed that he rarely slept in his bed anymore. Pansy screeched at him in the Common Room one evening when Theo asked him why he didn’t come back to the dorm the previous evening.

“Found someone _else_ , Draco??? You think you can just throw me aside so you can have a new slut???”

Draco rolled his eyes. “What do you care anyway? I got rid of you so I wouldn’t have to put up with this possessive bullshit. Take a hint, Pansy. I. Got. _Bored_ with you.”

Draco had become desensitized to those moments of necessary cruelty with Pansy. It was unfortunately the only way to keep her away from him. For a Slytherin, she was inexplicably immune to subtle signals and she seemed to have no self-respect in how vehemently she would throw herself at him. Most girls would slap him for saying something so rude to them. Granger sure as hell would. He’d _never_ get away with that shit with Granger. But Pansy just stomped her foot and left the room. It had always been a huge turnoff to Draco that Pansy was so eager to let him walk all over her. Why on earth would she think he’d want that? Worst of all, he knew that she’d just come crawling back in a month or so and he’d have to do the whole thing over again. It was exhausting.

Theo turned to him as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “So who is she? The girl you’re shagging? Must be good if she can get you to spend the night with her.”

Draco frowned. “I’m not talking about this.”

Theo laughed. “Oh man. She _is_ good. Never thought I'd see the day Draco Malfoy got pussy whipped.”

Draco said firmly, with a slight growl in his voice. “I’m not sharing any details because it’s nobody’s bloody business.” Draco stood up and left the Common Room, effectively ending the conversation.

Blaise had noticed something was awry as well. One day after Quidditch practice, he accosted Draco about the scratches on his back. “Whoa, Draco! Who the _fuck_ are you shagging these days? Must be a tigress.”

 _A lioness, actually_. “Why do you say that?”

“Your back. The love bites. The fact that you’re never around anymore. Pansy’s been upset. Says you’ve got a new plaything. Must have taken my advice and found someone worthy.”

Aside from the fact that he found it repulsive that anyone would refer to Granger as a “plaything”, if Draco wasn’t going to talk about her with Theo, he sure as shit wasn’t going to discuss her with Blaise. Blaise wouldn’t be able to keep his trap shut. And he’d be pervy about it and try to get him to divulge details about how Granger was in bed. Aside from the fact that they were keeping it a secret, it just seemed wrong.

“Yeah. I guess I did” was all he said on the matter.

____________________________

One night, he was lying in bed with Granger after a particularly rigorous shag, when she turned to him, a question in her eyes.

“Malfoy?”

“Hm, Granger?”

“What does this room become for you when you come here without me?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t come here without you.”

“Yes you do. I know you do.”

His lips thinned. He knew there was no use lying to her. “How do you know?”

Her eyes downcast. “Harry has this…map. It shows where everybody in Hogwarts is at all times.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, feeling a surge of anger that he was powerless to supress. “And how long have you known about this? Were you _ever_ going to tell me or wouldn’t you want to betray your precious Potter?” He spat out the name of the boy for whom his hatred had tripled in the last minute and a half. “Does this mean he knows about us?”

“No, Draco, he doesn’t know. And why would I need to tell you about it? The only reason that I know you’ve been in this room is because this is the only room in the castle that doesn’t show up on the map. Harry’s been sort of obsessed with you this year. He thinks you’re a Death Eater, as daft as that sounds. That’s why he keeps track of you.”

Draco’s heart pounded in his chest. “Hermione, do you have any idea how fucking _intrusive_ that is?”

“Don’t _be_ like this, Draco. I’ve tried telling him that he’s just being paranoid but he won’t listen to me. I’ve tried to get him off your back, even before we started sleeping together, but he’s convinced he’s right. And it’s not like I can very well tell him, ‘Don’t worry, Harry. I see Malfoy naked all the time and he doesn’t have a Dark Mark.’” Her eyes glistened.

Draco could see that it wasn’t easy for her to tell him about this. She felt like she was betraying her best friend. She probably felt like she was stuck in the middle. He couldn’t bear to think that he had made her cry, but he was absolutely furious at the Boy-Who-Would-Absolutely-Not-Fucking-Die.

“Please don’t be made at me,” she requested in a small voice.

His heart broke a little bit. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “No, Hermione. I’m not mad at you. I absolutely  _hate_ your best friend, but that has nothing to do with you.”

He wished he could tell her the truth. He hated that he was lying to her. Especially because she had defended him so innocently to Potter. If she knew what he was…she’d never be able to look at him again.

He felt her lips move against his chest. “It’s not anything wrong is it? What you do in here.”

“No, it’s nothing wrong. Sometimes it’s just easier to spend my time here than down in the snake pit. I just need a break from it all.” _More lies_.

“I can understand that.” She kissed him sweetly.

He ran his thumb over her cheek. He wanted to tell her everything, but he was so afraid he’d lose her. At this point, she was all he had. “Will you stay here tonight? With me?”

It was Friday and Hermione didn’t have anywhere she needed to be in the morning. She knew they were crossing dangerous territory by actually sleeping in the same bed, but things had been feeling more…real for a while now. And she was so comfortable lying in his arms. He looked so sincere, so vulnerable.

“Yes. Of course I’ll stay.”

 _Relief_. He kissed her and willed the lights to dim. Slowly, he let sleep take him.

______________________________________

 

Hermione woke the next morning feeling more comfortable than she’d ever been in her life. The magical fireplace crackled, the silk sheets felt heavenly against her skin, and she was wrapped tightly in the arms of Draco Malfoy. She felt a pair of lips on her shoulder, and knew that Draco had awoken as well.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice husky with sleep.

“Good morning.”

There was no rush to get up. Nothing to do but lay there in Draco’s arms. His lips found her shoulder again, and again, until they reached her neck. “Mmm. That feels nice.”

His tongue flicked the hollow of her throat in response, pulling out a low, throaty moan from Hermione. His hand trailed from her hip up to cup her breast. He thumbed over her nipple, pebbling the sensitive bud and earning him another moan. He began to suck on her neck and pressed his hardness against her back.

“We’ve never done it in the morning before,” he murmured.

“Care to remedy that?” her voice was breathy.

His hand fell to her slit in response. She was already fairly wet. He began to rub her clit in agonizing, small circles. She threw her head back, giving him better access to her neck. She hummed in pleasure and bucked against his hand and he began to be more deliberate in his attentions, all the while sucking and biting her shoulder, her neck, her back.

“I’m so close.” He kept his pattern and his rhythm relishing the way her body hummed for him, so desperate to come.

He nibbled on her ear, licking the shell of it and whispering, “Come for me, Hermione.” The vibrations of his voice in her ear, his lovely plea, it was enough. She shuddered against him, her body so grateful for release.

He turned her over and kissed her deeply, parting her legs with his knee. She wrapped her heels around his hips and guided him into her. They made love gently and sweetly with Draco never letting his lips leave her. When he wasn’t kissing her mouth, his lips left traces on her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. His hands cradled her face as he kissed her and thrust himself inside her slow and deep, making certain that his pelvis ground against her clit. When she came again, he could taste his name in her moan, feel her body vibrating beneath him. She clamped down on him, which pushed him over with her.

“Hermione,” he whispered into her mouth as he came. She clutched his back tightly and they both looked into each other’s eyes as he came down from his high. As he collapsed next to her, he sighed in contentment.

They both felt refreshed and happy, but neither was entirely sure what to say. Although they had been very intimate these last few weeks, neither had gotten the hang of exactly how to address the proverbial elephant in the room…namely, that they had crossed a threshold into something more than just casual fuck buddies.

Draco rolled over on his side and motioned for her to do the same. He spooned her, setting his chin on top of her head and lacing his hand through hers. He knew this was boyfriend-behavior, although he had never been like this with any girl before.

Hermione drew nonsense patterns on Draco’s forearm with her finger. She knew this was girlfriend-behavior, even though she had no experience in that domain. “I need to get back to the Tower.”

Draco pouted slightly, “Yeah, I guess I should be getting back to the snake pit.” The two moved to retrieve their clothes. “Any plans for the day?” He wanted to ask her if she just wanted to…hang out or something. Without the shagging.

“Yeah, actually. It’s Ron’s birthday. A bunch of us are going to Hogsmeade.”

Draco pushed down an embarrassing bubble of jealously. He _refused_ to be jealous of the Weasel when _he_ was the one spending she was spending her nights with. It was _his_ name she cried when she came. He knew he was being a little ridiculous, but he wished he could spend time with her the way Weasley and Potter did...just hanging out. And he realized he wanted even more than that. He wanted to hold her hand, and walk her to class, and eat meals with her in the Great Hall. He wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her and take her on a date.

“What about you?”

He shrugged. “Quidditch maybe. Homework. Nothing major.” In fact, he had Occlumency lessons with Snape that day, but he was making progress and the lesson wouldn’t take all afternoon. He turned to her, now fully dressed. “What about tonight?”

“We can meet if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I was sort of thinking…maybe we can meet somewhere else. Other than here, I mean.” He could feel blood rushing to his cheeks and he couldn't quite look her in the eyes.

“Where?”

“The lake? I could do a Warming Charm. Get us some stuff from the kitchens. We could meet here and then walk down together.”

Hermione thought this sounded suspiciously like a date, but found she didn’t mind in the slighest. “Okay. That sounds good.” She smiled brightly at him.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he returned her smile. “Good. I guess…I’ll see you tonight, then.” He kissed her cheek and she smiled bashfully.

“Alright then. See you tonight.” She turned and left the room.

Draco felt relieved. He had hoped that she liked him enough where she’d want to spend time with him when he wasn’t buried deep inside her. This was good. He waited a few moments and then strolled down to the dungeons with a bounce in his step, unable to fight the grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my tag of "Draco reveals himself to be a cinnamon roll" FINALLY begins to be true.


	16. The Lake is Pretty and So Are Neville's Eyebrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and her friends celebrate Ron's 17th birthday. But she finds she is unable to concentrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry I wasn't able to update yesterday. I've actually been taking the bar exam (ick) which is why I haven't updated my other story, "Hot for Teacher" in several days for those of you who follow both. This chapter is short, but kind of cutesy. You can expect a longer, more serious chapter tomorrow.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Lavender all settled into a giant booth at the Three Broomsticks, sipping on butterbeer and toasting to Ron’s seventeenth birthday. Lavender was snuggled up next to Ron, making adoring eyes at him, and every so often shooting a glare at Hermione.

Hermione wasn’t really there. She was back in the Room of Requirement, waking up to Draco’s sweet kisses and caresses. She replayed their post-coital conversation over and over in her head. There was no mistaking it. He had definitely asked her out. She felt silly that she was more nervous about their “date” tonight than she ever was about their plans to meet up and have sex.

Draco certainly treated her like she was more than just a physical outlet. The way he kissed her and touched her…it was like he adored her. She sometimes wondered if that was just the way he had always been with girls. A habit. But then he’d look at her like she was the moon and all her fears would melt away. And he had been so raw and open last night when he asked her to stay with him.

Oh boy, she had really stuck her foot in it. She was falling for Draco Malfoy.

“ _Hermiiiione_? Earth to Hermione Granger.” Dean waved his hands in front of her face.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if anyone was up for a little botanical recreation?”

Hermione looked around the group. They all had obviously already given their consent to the plan and were just waiting for her.

“Um…I mean…”

She really, _really_ didn’t want a repeat of the last time they got high at Hogsmeade. This time, Lavender was here, and Ron had proven that he was a very open-book type of stoner. But on the other hand, she was going to be useless as a conversationalist today, what with Draco on her mind. She might as well have an excuse for it.

“So long as we don’t get as high as we did the last time we did this.”

“Atta girl!”

They finished their butterbeers and made their way to a secluded area of the village. It was a nice, sunny day. The air carried a bit of a chill, but not so much that it would be terribly uncomfortable to be outside. The butterbeer had warmed them all considerably.

“Anyone not done this before?” Dean addressed the group.

Neville and Lavender raised their hands. Seamus had gotten high enough times with Dean that he was quite comfortable with the drug.

“Alright, well I’ve been told in the past that I should guide newbies into this gently instead of just throwing them to the wolves.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “You don’t want to smoke too much of this stuff your first time. You won’t have built up a tolerance. So I’d say about—”

“How ‘bout we just take turns and you spare everyone else the lecture, Dean?” Ginny piped up, sounding mildly irritated.

Dean looked a little put out, but not enough to stop his instructional rant on what they could expect, how they shouldn’t let themselves feel paranoid because it’s just a potential side effect, even about the particular blend they were about to smoke. When he was finished, he turned to Hermione. “How’d I do?”

“Great job, professor.”

“Now that the rest of us are _thoroughly_ bored, could we get on with it?” Ginny snarked.

The group took turns hitting the joint. Dean rolled another, and then another before he was satisfied that everyone had had enough. Hermione only took hits of the first and second, wanting to be level-headed for tonight. They sat on a hill which overlooked the castle, mesmerized by the effects of the light over the ripples in the lake.

“We’re _so_ lucky we get to live in that castle. I mean look how pretty it is. And the _lake_ is just so pretty. Don’t you just think it’s _so_ pretty, Ron?” Lavender was shallow even when she was stoned.

“Yeah, s’ pretty.” Ron agreed. It was the only thing he had said in about an hour. Remembering about his slip of the tongue the last time he was high, Ron was being extra careful not to say too much. He was absolutely certain that everyone could see him freaking out, but in reality he just sat there serenely, appearing to be thinking about something mildly pleasant.

Neville hadn’t spoken either. He looked rather melancholy as he gazed at the castle.

“Hey Nev. Don’t look so gloomy, mate.” Seamus broke his reverie.

“I’m not gloomy. Why would you think I’m gloomy?” Neville asked in a panicked tone. He was a bit of a paranoid stoner, having been unable to control his emotions the way Dean suggested. He was thoroughly convinced that everyone in the group would rather he wasn’t there.

“Neville, you have _such_ pretty eyebrows. They’re like… _real_ you know. They look like real eyebrows. Not like the rest of us. We don’t have real eyebrows.” Ginny gushed.

He perked up at the compliment. “That’s not true. You all have such real eyebrows. You, and Seamus, and Dean, and Harry, and Ron, and…and Hermione.” He choked on the last one. Neville had secretly fancied Hermione since fourth year, as she was one of the only girls who ever spoke to him, and she was his Herbology partner. He couldn’t help but fancy someone he associated with Herbology.

“Nev, you’re good at Herbology, right?” Seamus asked.

“Why would you ask about that?” Neville was convinced everyone knew he had been thinking about his pretty Herbology partner.

“You could _grow_ this stuff, Nev.” Harry and Dean looked at Seamus like he was the most brilliant person they’d ever met in their lives.

Hermione was mildly aware of the conversation around her. But mainly she was mesmerized by the light on the lake. It made her think of her date tonight with Draco. She had grown comfortable thinking of it as a date, and not as a “date.” The marijuana reassured her typically over-active brain that the boy really did fancy her. She looked at the lake and felt as though she might cry. It was the same color as Draco’s eyes with the light hitting it. She was sad because she knew they were on two different sides of the war. They could never be normal together, holding hands, hanging out with each other’s friends. Aside from the fact that they detested each other’s friends, it was much too dangerous. And Draco would never leave his family or his friends for her, no matter how much he fancied her.

She knew something was wrong with Draco. He was troubled. Sometimes when he took her, it felt like he was trying to forget something. He was frantic, and had a wild, frightened look in his eyes. She wished he trusted her enough to tell her what was bothering him. Maybe she could make it go away. Maybe she could…

A light slap on her head interrupted her reverie. She turned around to find Ginny looking at her expectedly. “You’re quiet today, Hermione. Where do you go? What’s in there?” She squinted her eyes and pointed at Hermione’s head.

Ginny had been a great friend to Hermione lately. She covered for her every time she went to meet Draco, she always caught her before anyone else could see if there was a visible love bite that Draco had failed to heal. She kept her secret. Her biggest secret.

“Ginny, you’re such a good friend. I don’t think I tell you that enough.” Hermione threw her arms around her red-headed friend in a hug.

“Aww, Hermione. You’re my best friend. And your hair is so soft.” Ginny was all about the compliments today. “Feel this, Harry, Ron.”

“Ron, do _not_ feel it.” Lavender stopped him as he extended his hand to comply with Ginny’s request.

“I wasn’t going to. Promise.”

Lavender huffed. “I know.”

She had been sitting in his lap, and she shifted to look him square in the eyes and mouth _I know, I know_ over and over again. Ron’s eyes widened. He was certain that she _knew_ about his and Hermione’s former sexual relationship. He would have rather thrown himself off a cliff in that moment that confirm it, so he said nothing and just sat there, staring at his girlfriend manically while she mouthed _I know_ , her face centimeters away from his own.

In reality, Lavender really just meant that she _knew_ he wouldn’t touch Hermione’s hair.

“Those two are weird together.” Dean muttered to Seamus and Neville, motioning over to Ron and Lavender.

Harry touched Hermione’s hair, as Ginny requested. “You’re so brilliant, Ginny. It’s so soft, just like you said. I’ll bet your hair is soft too.” Not ceasing his ministrations on Hermione’s hair, he extended his other hand and stroked Ginny’s hair. She beamed at him.

“Should I be jealous of that?” Dean motioned to Harry and Ginny, each gazing at one another adoringly, his hands running through her hair.

“S’alright, mate. He’s touching Hermione too.” Seamus answered. “Say, how’d he get all the girls? Why don’t we get to pet them too?”

“We could pet them, if we moved.” Dean answered.

“Okay. We should do that.” Neville asserted. Hermione’s hair did look really soft.

“Yeah. We’re gonna do that right now.” Seamus agreed.

The three boys didn’t move a muscle.

“We’re not moving.” Neville noted.

“Not yet. But I’ll bet if we just keep this up, we’ll move in no time.” Seamus opined.

Literally nothing. No movement whatsoever.

Hermione barely registered that Harry was touching her hair. She continued to stare at the lake, thinking of the blond boy who somewhere along the way had burrowed into her heart.


	17. Better to Have Loved and Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape has talk with Draco. Ron gets poisoned. Draco gets his feelings hurt. Draco jumps to conclusions.

“You’re getting better, I see.”

When Draco first began studying Occlumency with Snape, he had been nervous knowing he would be unable to hide Granger from his godfather. But although Snape had most certainly seen her in Draco’s mind, he hadn’t brought the subject up once. They had settled into an unspoken agreement not to talk about her. This lesson, Draco had successfully hidden all things Granger-related behind a dense fog. Snape was able to penetrate the fog within a couple of tries, but it was progress nonetheless.

“I feel we’ve been avoiding a certain topic.” Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco.

“Can we not—?”

“No, we _must_.” Snape motioned for his godson to sit. When they were both seated, Snape started, “Draco. You have begun a relationship with a Muggleborn girl. And not just _any_ Muggleborn. Hermione Granger. I assume you understand the implications. But are you aware of the dangers?”

“I _know_ what I’m doing.”

“I’m not certain you do. She’s the reason you’re here is she not? You need to learn Occlumency so you can hide her from the Dark Lord.”

“Yes.” Draco gritted.

“For how long do you think you will be able to do so?”

“Depends on how good of a teacher you are.” Draco didn’t enjoy being spoken to like a child, even though he knew his godfather could have easily done so much worse. He could have taken this information to Draco’s father, for example.

“Don’t be cheeky. I’m only trying to make certain you understand how dangerous your involvement with the girl is. For the both of you.”

“You think I should end it.” It was not a question.

“I will not suggest that. I’ve been inside your mind enough to know that you will not.”

Draco raised a cool eyebrow. He had not been expecting that.

“Believe it or not, Draco, I am not completely inexperienced in the matters of holding a torch for a Muggleborn girl.”

Had Draco not been trained as a Slytherin since birth, he would have been unable to hide the shock he felt at hearing such an admission.

“I merely am suggesting that you be careful. You are my godson, and I do not wish to see you harmed.”

“Have I not been careful enough?”

“The mere fact that anything ever transpired between the two of you at all is evidence of your carelessness.”

“Yes, well. Nothing I can do about that now, is there?”

“Do not speak to me as if I were one of your imbecilic friends. It is not my intention to berate you or suggest that you do anything differently. I merely speak as an adult who is concerned for your well-being. I want you to be aware. Your father would do the same.”

Draco bristled at the mention of Lucius. “My father would disown me as a blood traitor and have her killed while I watch. Don’t speak to me about him as if you know what he’s become.”

“Perhaps not. But you are not an incapable wizard, Draco. You have made much progress in Occlumency. If you keep it up, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to protect her.”

Draco relaxed. “Do you really think so?”

“I do. But do not get comfortable. You still have work to do if you want to withstand the Dark Lord.”

Draco nodded. “Thank you” he whispered.

“Don’t thank me just yet. I still think you’re being very foolish. But I understand.”

For a moment, Draco saw his godfather tweak one corner of his lip up in what could have been a smile. He realized he didn’t know him at all.

_______________________________________

 

Back in the castle, later that night, Hermione stood in front of her closet, deliberating what to wear for her “date” with Draco. Now that the marijuana high had worn down, her guard was back up and she was back to calling it a “date” rather than a _date_. She selected a warm black jumper with sleeves that stopped in the middle of her forearms. It fit her nicely and had earned her several compliments. She slipped into her favorite denims, smoothed her hair, and applied a small amount of mascara. Satisfied with her appearance, she went to retrieve her jacket from her closet when she heard a fast, frantic rapping on the door to her dormitory.

Opening it, she found Ginny, breathing heavily. “Hermione, you’ve got to come now. Ron’s been poisoned.”

Hermione's hand flew up to cover her mouth. Wordlessly, she followed her friend to the Hospital Wing.

_______________________________________

 

Draco waited in the Room for her, lying on the couch in front of the fire. He had already stopped at the kitchens and filled a basket with flasks of hot chocolate and an assortment of pastries he had noticed she seemed to enjoy with her breakfast on occasion. Not that he watched her eat. Much.

She was late. _Really_ late.

Maybe something happened and she couldn’t get away. He felt a momentary stab of jealousy over Potter’s map. He had protested its existence, believing it to be an invasion of privacy for everyone in the castle, but right about now he wouldn’t say no to anything that told him Granger’s whereabouts.

What if she realized he had asked her out and she didn’t want to come? He thought he had been subtle about the fact that this was supposed to be a date, but she was the Brightest Witch of Her Age. What if she didn’t fancy him? What if he was just a fun thing to hop on?

No, he put that out of his mind immediately. Granger wasn’t like that. She was a quality witch. Even if she didn’t want to spend any time with him outside of sex, she would have the decency to at least tell him as much. She was straight with Weasley, right? She broke it off with him and didn’t leave him hanging.

But Weasley was her friend. He, Draco, was some arsehole who spent his childhood making fun of her teeth, calling her a Mudblood, and humiliating her every chance he got. She didn’t owe him anything.

Draco paced the room. He had waited for almost an hour. He had played all manner of horrible scenarios in his head. Her laughing at him with her Gryffindor friends in their Common Room, cackling at the thought that she would ever want to do something as silly as _date_ him. Her cheating on him ( _would_ it be cheating?) with Weasley, or Potter, or Thomas, or any of those gormless Gryffindor knobs he hated so much. His fist pounded the wall at the very thought. With the pain came clarity.

She had stood him up. Plain and simple.

He was hurt. There was no denying it. She had hurt him. He rubbed his face and stared at the fire. How had he let himself, a Malfoy, the heir of one of the oldest pureblood lines in Britain, get his heart broken by a Muggleborn?

He had plans for their evening together. He’d cast a Warming Charm but offer her his jacket anyway to make sure she was comfortable. They’d walk along the lake. They’d talk and joke and laugh. _He_ would be the one to make her laugh this time…not Weasley, not Potter. Then he’d take her hand and tell her that he thought about her all the time. They’d kiss, maybe make love on the blanket he brought, and afterwards she would agree to be his. Only his. They’d have to keep it secret, but they would still be together. He’d promise that he would do everything he could to protect her. And she would smile and hold him and tell him that he had made her so happy.

It all seemed ridiculous now. Pathetic. He was properly ashamed of himself. Falling for a Mu…ggleborn.

He couldn’t say that other word anymore. Not even to himself. He lay back down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. What was that Muggle saying? _Better to have loved and lost…?_

He shook his head. He didn’t buy that right now. Better to have never laid a hand on her at all.

_______________________________________

 

Hermione spent the evening in the Hospital Wing with Harry and Ginny. Ron was alive, but he was unconscious. Hermione felt bad about having to stand up Draco, but surely he’d understand. She couldn’t leave Ron. Not now. She couldn’t leave Harry and Ginny.

Ron would live. He had to live. She stood in between Harry and Ginny, grabbing each of them by the hand and squeezing. Ron would pull through this. He had survived worse and he would survive this. She was sure of it.

______________________________________

 

The next day, Hermione was dead on her feet. She ambled to the Great Hall to get some breakfast for her, Harry, and Ginny while they were temporarily camped out in the Hospital Wing. Suddenly she felt a strong arm pull her into a broom closet. “Hey!” she protested.

She looked into the furious face of Draco Malfoy. While his countenance betrayed his fury, his voice was deadly calm.

“You didn’t show last night.”

“I know.”

“I waited.”

“I _know_ , and I’m sorry. But I couldn’t make it. If you only knew—“

“I get it. It was a stupid suggestion anyway. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

“Draco, you _don’t_ get it. Please, just let me explain--"

“Momentary lapse in sanity, really. Don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s not like anything about this is sensible. It’s just me thinking with my dick. I guess I should thank you for the wakeup call.”

Hermione’s face fell slightly. “What are you talking about?”

Draco shrugged and adopted an air of nonchalance, “I mean we had our fun, yeah? Don’t get me wrong, Granger. You’re a fantastic lay, but you’re hardly worth sacrificing my name for. What do you think everyone would say if they knew I’d sullied myself with you?”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. She fixed him with a hardened stare. “Excuse me?”

Draco assumed his ice cold Slytherin mask. “Don’t think for a moment that just because you had a Malfoy between your legs that makes your blood any less filthy.”

He might as well have slapped her. She felt like she had been seeing him through a haze this whole time and all of a sudden the smoke cleared and there he was. _Draco Malfoy_ , the boy who called her Mudblood and wished for her death during second year. She felt like an idiot. This was not a sensation she was used to, and it infuriated her that she had given him the power to make her feel this way.

“How _dare_ you? If anything, _I’m_ the one who sullied myself with _you_.”

This was the game he was used to. This was the Granger he understood. The girl who hated him, the one who bit back at him when he insulted her. Not the woman who cried his name in pleasure and made him feel whole. That woman was a lie.

“Don’t know why you’re complaining. You can’t honestly tell me that I wasn’t a fun fuck toy for you. Consider it an honor that I even looked at you sideways, you filthy little Mud—“

SLAP!

Draco felt the warmth of her handprint on his face. He slowly turned to face her. His eyes were pure fury.

How dare she slap him? How dare she hurt him at all? He was a fool for giving her the power to do so, and he hated himself for it. When he spoke, his voice was low and even.

“That is the last time you touch me, Mudblood.” He walked out the door without another word.

Hermione was left trembling with rage. She had never felt like this before. It wasn’t just the anger. Yes, she wanted to break things. But she felt weak and pathetic that part of her also wanted to cry loudly into her pillow.

Just yesterday she realized she was falling for him. Today he broke her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm sorry, but I had to. Let me know in the comments what you think!


	18. Hurt

The next few days Draco was beyond irritable. He couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt such a storm of emotions. He was angry with Granger for hurting him. He was angry at himself for being vulnerable enough to let her. He felt stupid for ever thinking that he was more than just a sweaty diversion for her. He felt disgusted with himself for ever entertaining the idea of dating her. For ever imaging those pathetic scenarios where they’d walk hand-in-hand by the lake and laugh together.

He also felt guilty for the hurtful things he said. He didn't mean them at all. He had only wanted to hurt her like she hurt him.

 _Hurt_.

Most of all, he was hurt. That was the worst one. It was foreign to him and he didn’t know how to respond to it. How was he just supposed to walk around among the normal people whose heart _hadn’t_ been broken by Hermione Granger and pretend like everything was fine?

He sat behind her in Arithmancy and tried with everything he had not to look at the back of her head. He’d see the curls tumbling down her back and his chest would tighten at the memory of his hands buried in those tresses as he kissed her, the green apple scent he had come to crave penetrating his senses. He willed himself not to glance at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall during meals. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing he was thinking about her should she happen to look up at him too. Not that she would.

He threw himself into working on the Vanishing Cabinet. That was the most important thing, after all and it kept him from thinking too much about Granger. It didn’t help that the Cabinet was in the Room of Requirement and that every time he approached the seventh floor corridor he felt a pang at the idea that he used to meet Granger here. He used to look forward to coming to this room and losing himself in her soft skin and tight heat and sweet moans. But he couldn’t let himself think about that. That was over.

Sitting in the Great Hall now, he felt drained. He’d barely been able to sleep since his “break up” with Granger. He had thought about asking the Room for the place they always met so he could sleep in the bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He chanced a glance at the Gryffindor table but found no sign of Granger. Potter and Weasley were missing too, probably panting after her somewhere like a couple of badly trained slobbering mutts. Maybe carrying her books to the library for her, the whipped little sods.

Thinking of the library made him feel ill. It seemed so long ago, that day in the Restricted Section when he first fooled around with Granger, tasting her, hearing her moan his name. He wondered if he could _Obliviate_ that memory away. Otherwise he’d never be able to go to the library again. He jabbed at his plate in frustration, causing the table to jolt slightly.

“For the _actual_ sake of fuck, Draco, cut that stabby shit out. Some of us would prefer our robes _weren’t_ drenched in pumpkin juice. Shit stains,” Blaise said haughtily.

“You’ve got a bug up your arse about something. What’s wrong?” Theo asked.

Draco shook it off. “Nothing. I’m absolutely fucking fine.” He took a deep swig of pumpkin juice and scowled at the Gryffindor table.

Theo followed Draco’s gaze to the empty spot where Potter, Weasley, and Granger usually sat. “Yeah, the Golden Trio’s still holed up in the Infirmary. You think Weasley’ll snuff it? I hear he still hasn’t woken up.”

Draco turned to face Theo, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What the bloody fuck are you talking about?”

Blaise and Theo looked at each other with narrowed eyes. “You didn’t hear? How is that even possible?” Blaise asked.

Draco had spent the last few days tucked away in the Room of Requirement and keeping up with current events wasn’t exactly at the top of his list. “If one of you doesn’t tell me what’s going on right this fucking second I’ll hex your tongues up your arses.”

Theo answered. “Weaselby got himself poisoned Saturday night. Would’ve died too if Potter hadn’t jumped in and played the hero _again_.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “I hear Potter and Granger barely leave his side. How fucking _romantic_ is that?” He and Theo sniggered.

Draco felt like he had just been sucker punched.

_“I couldn’t make it. If you only knew…”_

He was an absolute fucking knob. She hadn’t gone off him _at all_. Why couldn’t he have just let her explain instead of going _completely_ nuclear and driving her away?

He nearly groaned at the memory of everything he had said to her that day. She’d probably never forgive him. Circe’s _tit_ why did he have to go and mess up the _one_ good thing he had going on his life right now? What if she was actually really looking forward to seeing him that night? What if she fancied him? Well he had certainly cocked that up. There was no chance she felt like that now. Not after everything he had said to her.

Draco nearly threw up when he thought about how she was probably out of her mind worried about Weasley when he pulled her into that broom closet. She was already upset at nearly losing one of her best friends and then he came along and made it worse.

Blaise narrowed his eyes. “Draco. You alright, mate? You look pale. Well, you always look pale, but I mean more than usual. I’m not gonna lie, it’s not exactly your best look. And with those rings under your eyes...pretty boy's not lookin' so pretty. ”

Draco shook himself. “Yeah. I’m…yeah. I need to…I’ve got to go.” He had barely touched his food, but he felt sick. Of all the nasty things he’d ever said or done over the years, this was the first time he truly felt like a bad person.

______________________________________

 

Hermione couldn’t ever remember being so exhausted. She barely slept these days. Between worrying about Ron, trying to stay on top of her class work, and spending every spare second of her free time in the Hospital Wing, it’d be a miracle if she didn’t turn gray by the end of the year.

Then there was the other thing. The Malfoy-shaped hole in her heart that kept her constantly on the brink of tears. Over the past few days she found herself crying more than she ever remembered doing so in her life. But then again, Malfoy always had brought out the extreme in her. She would think about the hateful look in his eyes when she slapped him and her eyes would immediately well with tears.

_That is the last time you touch me, Mudblood._

She felt as though someone had wrung her out and left her hanging, weak and brittle.

The worst part is that she felt guilty. Every time she cried, Ginny and Harry assumed it was because she was worried about Ron. And she was _absolutely_ worried about him. But she knew Ron would pull through. She _knew_ this. Her and Malfoy…that was over. And she felt like an idiot for ever letting it get as far as it did.

For the first time in her life she wasn’t able to concentrate in class. She fidgeted in her seat while Slughorn droned on about the reasons why Veritaserum isn’t used in criminal trials. She could see pale blond hair out of the corner of her eye and it made her want to sink into the floor and disappear. In her other classes Malfoy sat far away from her or behind her so she couldn’t see him if she didn’t want to, but Potions was small and intimate and he was right _there_ at the table next to her.

She refused to look at him. If he saw her face, he’d know how badly he hurt her. And the thought of looking at him and seeing that cocky smirk…she knew that he probably wasn’t even remotely phased that they ended their…whatever it was. He just threw her aside so easily once he was finished with her. She was no different than Pansy Parkinson. Only he at least wasn’t so ashamed of Parkinson that he kept her a secret. She felt so foolish for ever harboring a sense of superiority over the “stupid girls” who would fall for the charms of a “bad boy” and then whimper away like kicked puppies once the boy tired of them. She wasn’t better than them or smarter than them. She _was_ them.

“Miss Granger?”

Hermione looked up to find Professor Slughorn looking at her expectantly. She collected herself. “Yes, Professor Slughorn. I’m sorry, what was the question?”

“I only wanted to know if you cared to tell the class the potential side effects of overdosing on Veritaserum.”

Hermione blinked. She couldn’t remember that passage in the book. She probably hadn’t retained much of what she’d read over the last few days. “I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t know.”

A ripple of low murmurs flowed through the classroom. Nobody could ever remember Hermione Granger not knowing the answer to a professor’s question.

Hermione felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Slughorn gave her an apologetic look. “That’s quite alright Miss Granger.” He believed, like everyone else, that she was operating at half capacity because her friend was on his death bed.

Hermione couldn’t handle his sympathy. She didn’t deserve it. She was a dumb girl who had spent way too much time crying over a boy she should have known would eventually break her heart.

__________________________________________________

 

Draco couldn’t concentrate at all in Potions. Professor Slughorn was yammering on about accepted uses of Veritaserum or some rot. Draco was counting the minutes until the class was over and he could try to get Granger alone. He had been miserable for days and the thought that he had made her miserable too made him feel downright deplorable. Here was this smart, beautiful, sweet girl who was just worried about her friend and he had treated her like she was nothing. How could he have ever felt that he deserved her time and attention? She had even _apologized_ to him for not showing up that night. And he wouldn’t even let her explain herself.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. He knew he was being too obvious, but if he could just catch her eye, let him set the ground work, maybe she would understand.

She looked so unhappy. He realized a lot of that was probably because of Weasley. But if he had even the _slightest_ part to play in making her feel that way…as unworthy as he was, he’d beg her forgiveness and he'd vow never to make her cry again. All he’d wanted to do was make her happy and he cocked it up.

Professor Slughorn asked some stupid question about Veritaserum’s risks and of course, nobody knew the answer. Or at least nobody wanted to volunteer. That was Granger’s territory. But she didn’t seem too keen today. Draco felt a sinking sensation in his stomach when Professor Slughorn asked her to answer the question and she just sat in silence and stared at her parchment.

“Miss Granger?”

Granger shook herself slightly as though she just then realized he had addressed her. “Yes Professor Slughorn. I’m sorry, what was the question.” Her voice was shaky and small.

“I only wanted to know if you cared to tell the class the potential side effects of overdosing on Veritaserum.”

Granger looked a bit shaken. “I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t know.”

Draco had to pinch himself to make certain this wasn’t some awful dream. Granger _always_ knew the answer. And now on top of everything she was _embarrassed_ that she couldn't answer Slughorn's question. 

She deserved better than some prick who treated her like dirt. He had _always_ been that prick and he hated himself for it.

__________________________________________

 

Hermione left Potions in a hurry. She had humiliated herself in front of the entire class, including a certain blond git who shall remain Nameless. She was on her way to the Infirmary when she felt a strong force tug at her arm and drag her sideways into a broom closet.

Of _course_ , it was that certain Nameless blond prick.

Hermione fumed. “What do you think you’re doing?—“

“Only way to get you alone.”

“—You can’t just keep dragging me into closets whenever you feel like it!”

“I _know_ , I’m sorry. But I needed to talk to you.”

Hermione surveyed his face for any ill intentions and found none. On the contrary he seemed rather sincere. He wasn’t wearing his Slytherin mask today. Hermione rolled her eyes and folded her arms in front of her chest. “Make it quick.”

Draco licked his lips and exhaled. “I didn’t know about Weasley. That day I said those things…I thought you didn’t show that night because…I don’t know.”

Hermione said evenly, “So you didn’t know Ron was poisoned. How is that any business of mine.”

Draco swallowed loudly. Hermione noticed he was breathing rather heavily. “I was hurt that you didn’t show that night. I thought you were trying to tell me something and I…I just wanted to hurt you too.”

Hermione’s eyes fell and her breathe hitched. “Well you certainly did that.”

“I know. I’m so, _so_ sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean any of those things I said.”

If Hermione didn’t know any better, she would have said there was a tear in his voice. He meant it. She knew that. But it still didn’t change that he hurt her.

“You called me a—“

“I know.”

“—You _hurt_ me.”

“I know. I’m a prat, and you _have_ to believe me when I say I how sorry I am. I honestly don’t even care about your blood status. It’s the farthest thing from my mind when I’m with you.”

Hermione felt her knees quaking at the sight of Draco Malfoy making puppy dog eyes. At _her_ , of all people. Her throat felt dry. “I…I don’t know.”

His voice came out in a breathy whisper. “What don’t you know?”

“I trusted you. I thought you were different and then you…I needed you. My best friend nearly died and I needed you. And not only were you not there, but you…you….”

Draco tried to reach for her face to comfort her but Hermione backed against the wall, dodging his touch. “Hermione. I was an absolute _prick_ to you. I wouldn’t blame you if you never let me touch you again. But I never would have said those things if I—“

“So it’s _my_ fault you broke things off?”

Draco shook his head vehemently with wide eyes “ _No_. Absolutely _not_. Hermione, it’s _my_ fault. I should have let you explain why you weren’t there that night. You were trying to explain and I just…I _royally_ fucked up. And I am _begging_  you to forgive me.”

Hermione looked up into his eyes, so raw, so honest. But she wasn’t quite over the fact that this was the same boy who just days ago made her feel worse than she had ever felt in her life.

She answered, “I can’t.” Draco closed his eyes and hung his head. She continued, “At least not right now.” He looked up at her, his eyes somewhat softened. “Just give me some time. I still need to deal with…you know…I’m just so exhausted I can’t hardly think right now.”

Draco nodded his head. “Take all the time you need. I really am…” His voice cracked. “I hate myself for hurting you.”

Hermione couldn’t breathe. She needed to get out of that broom closet before she did something daft like kiss him. “I’ll see you around.”

She turned and left, feeling more unhinged than ever. She could still feel the stings of everything he had said to her that day. She never would have thought that words could really hurt her so much. Draco had always brought out different facets of her, hidden parts, that she never knew existed. Some of these were wonderful and exhilarating, but some were devastating. All were deeply humanizing and at times felt almost…too _much_.

She was still reeling over those words.

_Don’t think for a moment that just because you had a Malfoy between your legs that makes your blood any less filthy._

His apology soothed the hurt somewhat, but she needed to collect her thoughts. How did she know he wouldn’t do this again? That he wouldn’t hurt her as a form of self-preservation. He might be sweet to her in bed, but he had proven that he was still a snake through and through. Snakes protected themselves first. She had forgotten this fact about him before. Now that he had reminded her she wouldn’t let herself forget it again.

As sincere as he seemed, she didn’t doubt that he would always put his own feelings first. Even if it hurt her. Even if he hated himself for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm torturing you guys with this thing, but it had to be done. 
> 
> Also, for those of you who follow both of my stories and are waiting for updates to "Hot for Teacher," I promise an update soon! 
> 
> I start a new job on Monday, so that means two things: (1) I probably won't have time to update every day, but I'll still update regularly; (2) it's actually a writing job, so on the upside, my writing will probably improve. Less updates, better stuff. That's a good compromise, right?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Do you think Hermione should have forgiven him right away? Let me know in the comments!


	19. I Want It That Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny and Hermione have a discussion. Draco loses control of his magic in Charms class.

Hermione lounged in the Infirmary with Harry and Ginny. The three had created a sort of camp base, transfiguring comfy chairs and a coffee table on which they could do their homework and eat their meals. If Madam Pomfrey objected to the arrangement, she never said anything. Ron continued to lie still on his bed, the poison still not completely out of his system. He hadn’t woken up yet either.

Hermione sighed thinking about everything Draco had said to her. She didn’t doubt his sincerity, but she also wasn’t convinced he realized just how selfish he was. Perhaps he _thought_ he cared about her, but his actions spoke differently.

“You alright, Hermione? You should get some sleep. You’re starting to look like Moaning Myrtle,” Ginny said.

Hermione chuckled lightly. “I’m fine. If anybody needs to get any sleep it’s the two of you. You’ve got a big Quidditch game coming up. The extra practices must be wearing you down.”

Ginny waived off the comment. “We’re fine. Right, Harry?” She turned to Harry for confirmation to find that he had thrown his head on the back of the chair, slightly snoring, with a light drizzle of drool trailing down his bottom lip.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He shouldn’t sleep like that. He’s going to fuck up his neck.” She and Ginny clapped loudly, causing Harry to thrash in the chair upon waking.

“Woozair???? Watizit?” He wildly waived his arms in the air around him.

The two girls laughed at their sleepy friend. “Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable if you slept in your own bed?” Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “I’m up. Don’t need to sleep.” He threw a few light slaps on his face to make it true.

Ginny rolled her eyes and put a soothing hand on his arm. Harry grinned at her, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Harry, it’s alright. You’re a wonderful Seeker, but you’ll be useless if you don’t rest. Hermione and I have got this. You should go back to your bed.”

Harry nodded. “Alright. If you think so, Ginny.”

Ginny grinned. “I do. Go to bed, Harry.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at the interaction between her two obviously-in-love-with-each-other friends. Harry gathered his things and sluggishly left the Infirmary. Once he was out of sight, Ginny turned sharply to face Hermione.

“Okay bitch, spill.”

Hermione quirked a confused eyebrow at Ginny. “Spill what?”

“You’ve been bloody _miserable_ lately. What’s wrong with you?”

Hermione drew herself up indignantly. “In case you haven’t noticed, one of my best friends in the entire world, your brother, nearly died. Why wouldn’t I be upset?”

Ginny shook her head. “Ron will be fine and you know it. Madam Pomfrey said as much herself. You’re too logical to be blubbing over Ron when you know he’s going to pull through. So what is it? Something to do with the Ferret maybe? Did you guys have a fight?"

“…No.”

Ginny smirked and shook her head. “Are you _seriously_ doing this? When are you going to learn that I am neither Harry nor Ron and you can’t hide things from me? This is _something_ to do with the Ferret, I know it.”

“Gin, please, let’s not do this.”

Ginny ignored her and proceeded to think out loud. “You did that swotty hesitatey thing where you were dying to correct me. So you guys didn’t _fight_. What _did_ you do? Break up?”

Hermione sighed. “In order to be _able_ to break up with someone you actually have to be _together_ first.”

Ginny’s face fell. “So…you guys…?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. You okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well that’s a huge fucking lie, but alright. Do you want to talk about it?”

Hermione bit her lip. She found she really _did_ want to talk about it. “You know the night Ron was poisoned?”

Ginny nodded patiently. “I’m familiar.”

“Well, Draco kind of…asked me out on a date that night.”

Ginny’s eyebrows shot up into her head. “Continue.”

“When I didn’t show, I guess he just assumed that it meant I didn’t like him or something and he got really upset. The next day, he wouldn’t even let me _explain_ why I bailed. He just started accusing me of using him as a…a ’fuck toy’ I think was the word he used.”

Ginny let out a low whistle.

“ _Right_? And then he said we should just stop what we were doing because he didn’t want to get caught sullying himself with a Mudblood.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes dangerously. “He said _what_?”

“ _Yeah_. He said…” she sighed, struggling to get out the words. “He said that I shouldn’t think that just because I had a Malfoy between my legs that it makes my blood any less filthy.”

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me? I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking _pulverize_ that little—“

“He _apologized_ once he found out about Ron. And Gin, you should have seen him. He could have won a goddamned _medal_ in apologizing. But I just…what he said really got to me and I…I just worry that I can’t trust him not to hurt me again.”

“Right, because…?“

“I mean he fucking _did that_ because he jumped to conclusions and he didn’t trust me, and he got _bent out of fucking shape_ over nothing, and then he thought he’d hurt _me_ just to make himself feel better. I mean who _does_ that?”

“Ferret, obviously.”

“ _Right_? I mean I’d be out of my _mind_ to trust him not to do it again wouldn’t I?”

“Hmm…maybe.”

Hermione stiffened. “ _Maybe_? Were you not _listening_ to everything I just said?”

“I heard a story about a spoiled, self-centered boy who’s obviously fucking crazy about you who didn’t much like the idea that you just wanted to be his fuck buddy and lashed out because you broke his little Ferret-heart.”

Hermione shook her head. “No. No. That’s not it. Things have changed since we started doing this thing. He should have _trusted_ that I wasn’t some sort of…some sort of…”

“Cock-hungry succubus who used him for his body?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Your eloquence is inspiring.”

“It’s a gift.”

“But even if he _did_ think that, he shouldn’t have taken it out on me!”

Ginny nodded in agreement. “I’m not defending the Ferret. Let’s be absolutely clear about that. I’m just saying…he’s spoiled. You know this. Think about how that fits into the equation. Boy likes girl; boy asks girl out; girl says yes, but doesn’t show up; boy is hurt because boy has always gotten his way; boy gets angry because boy is hurt; so boy calls girl a Mudblood. It adds up.”

“I _understand_ the situation, Gin. I just don’t think he should be able to invoke _affluenza_ as a viable excuse for his behavior.”

“You said he _did_ apologize, right? _Profusely_?”

“Yeah. He…” Hermione fought a grin. “He _begged_ me to forgive him.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Uh-huh. You liked that a little bit, didn’t you?”

Hermione nodded. “I’ve never seen him so…I mean he really _was_ pretty torn up about it.”

Ginny deepened her smirk. “Forgive him or don’t. But from everything I’ve heard you say about the two of you, if Dean treated me even _half_ as well as Malfoy treats you…I mean obviously without the Mudblood stuff…”

“ _Obviously_.”

“…I’d _never_ get off my back for him.”

Hermione blushed. “I do miss him.”

“Do you _like_ him? You said he asked you on a date. Do you _want_ to date Malfoy?”

Hermione blushed deeper. “I do like him. A lot, I think.”

Ginny nodded. “He likes you too. A _whole_ fucking lot by the sound of it. He’s probably just nervous. And seriously…when has Malfoy _ever_ apologized to anyone?”

Hermione thought about it. “Me, once I think. He apologized for calling me a tart that day at Hogsmeade.”

“So… _just_ you then. Hermione…Malfoy’s a fucking arsehat, but he _really_ seems to like you. You should at least talk to him.”

Hermione bit her lip in contemplation. “You’re right. I should talk to him.” She narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Is everything alright with you and Dean? You guys seem kind of… _salty_ with each other lately.”

Ginny shrugged and rolled her eyes. “He’s getting on my nerves. He can be pretty pretentious. I don’t know. I definitely don’t feel about him the way you seem to feel about Malfoy. As weird as that sounds.”

Hermione nodded. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it. But there it is. I _like_ Draco Malfoy.”

Ginny sighed sympathetically. “You probably already know this because you’re a smart witch but I’ll say it anyway. You’re fucked.”

_______________________________________

 

Draco arrived in the Charms classroom earlier than usual. Much to his chagrin, the room seemed to already be occupied by the Gryffindorks…excluding his favorite one so what was even the fucking point? Potter and Finnegan seemed to be engaged in some sort of stupid debate.

“I’m tellin' you, _easy_. This’ll work.” Finnegan waiving a wand was always a gamble. The result would either be (1) nothing whatsoever or (2) _something_ would inexplicably explode. How he managed even an _Acceptable_ in Charms was beyond Draco.

Potter rolled his eyes. “You never get the temperature right. Why don’t you wait for Hermione? She’ll help.”

Draco perked at the mention of Hermione. Where _was_ she? Had she thought at all about forgiving him? _Merlin_ , he missed her.

Finnegan laughed. “Don’t need to get it _right_ , mate. Just need to make it hot enough in here where the lovely ladies like Hermione will feel inclined to…make themselves more comfortable.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the innuendo.

Draco glared. He had never really considered Finnegan as worthy of his ire before, but in an instant he decided that he hated the McArsehole with every fiber of his being.

Potter shook his head. “Whatever, Seam. Just don’t use it in the Common Room.”

Finnegan muttered an incantation and immediately the room felt about a thousand degrees too warm. Finnegan just cackled like a fucking leprechaun and puffed out his chest. “I fuckin’ _told_ you lot, didn’t I?”

Draco’s interest was diverted elsewhere as Hermione suddenly appeared in the room, looking like an absolute _angel_. Immediately, a swarm of butterflies began fluttering away in his stomach. He hoped he didn’t look as desperate to catch her eye as he felt. It didn’t help that he was sweating from the _ungodly_ temperature in the room.

Hermione scrunched her face. “Why does it feel like the surface of the sun in here?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Seam altered the Warming Charm. Bunched it up a few degrees.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “A _few?_  Dean, it’s hot as _blazes_ in here.”

Finnegan turned to face Hermione with a rather lecherous sneer on his face. “You know, Hermione. If you need to take your top off, we’d all understand.”

Draco felt his blood boiling. How fucking _dare_ that Irish bastard speak that way to his witch? Draco contemplated the many ways he could inflict pain on Finnegan when Hermione spoke up, rolling her eyes.

“I’m good, Seam. Although I _must_ say, I’m impressed that you managed to finally put your talent for pyrotechnics to use.”

Finnegan cocked an (in Draco’s opinion) gargoyle-ish eyebrow. “Oh yeah? _How_ impressed, darlin’?”

Draco balled his hands into fists so tight his nails started to draw blood in his palms.

“Seam, you’re _such_ a fucking douchebag. I’m not taking my top off. And is there a counter-spell to this? Because if you don’t lower the temperature I just might hex you back to Ireland.”

Draco’s chest swelled with pride. Hermione really knew how to hold her own. Smart, beautiful, sassy…those Gryffindorks didn’t stand a chance.

Finnegan smirked. “I’m workin’ on it darlin’. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Flitwick’ll fix it if I can’t.”

It bothered Draco that Finnegan spoke to Hermione like that. It was so fucking _patronizing_. I mean…maybe he had done the same at some point but things were different now. Finnegan obviously didn’t recognize his betters when he saw them.

Thomas poked at Hermione’s thigh to get her attention. Draco didn’t care for _that_ either. Why were these Gryffindorks so touchy-feely with her? “Hey Hermione. You seen Ginny lately? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was avoiding me.”

“She’s _not_ avoiding you, Dean. If you want to see her you could always come hang out in the Infirmary. She’s been preoccupied. You know, with her brother nearly dying and all.”

Draco didn’t miss the way Potter immediately seemed to blush at the mention of the Weaselette. _How fucking perfect is that?_

Thomas shook his head. “She doesn’t need to be there all the time. You should tell her that.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m not sending messages between you two, Dean. Tell her yourself. And you don’t have to be such a prat about it.”

“Who’s being a prat? _You’re_ the one who won’t take your top off for Seam.”

Finnegan batted his eyelashes and pouted his lips at the mention of his name. Draco thought the gesture made him look like a baby troll.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. Draco wondered _how_ she didn’t get her eyes stuck like that when she was constantly having to deal with these moronic Gryffindorks. “Careful, Thomas. Or I might let it slip that you listen to the Backstreet Boys.”

Draco didn’t know who the “Backstreet Boys” were, but he was terribly amused at how Thomas stiffened at the mention of…whomever those people were.

“ _Hey_. Don’t you even try to deny for a fucking second that ‘I Want It That Way’ was a motherfucking _masterpiece_ , alright, Hermione. Not _everything_ has to be Joy Division and Sonic Youth.”

The conversation ended with Professor Flitwick’s arrival in the room. The tiny man immediately recoiled at the ghastly temperature of the room. Luckily for everyone, he corrected it without even giving it a second thought.

Throughout the lesson, Draco’s gaze kept wandering to Hermione, who appeared to be, once again, focused on her classwork. He internally sighed with relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when she was in her element. He wouldn’t want her any other way.

What he didn’t exactly _love_ was the way Finnegan kept looking at her too. Draco thought it was rather rude of him, considering that Hermione made her position _quite_ clear, but he was rather sure Finnegan was trying to see through Hermione’s shirt. It made Draco want to smash his fat Irish face in.

As Draco’s anger became more pronounced towards the Gryffindor wizard, be couldn’t help but notice that Finnegan’s head seemed to be swelling a bit. _Heh._ Funny, it almost seemed like...

Oh, fucking _hells_ it was really quite disgusting. _Fuck_! Draco hadn’t lost control over his magic like this since he was seven years old and he lit his grandfather’s toupee on fire.

“What the…?” Seamus’s head was growing at a rather alarming rate, and now appeared to be roughly the size of a very imposing jack-o-lantern. Several classmates erupted in a fit of giggles, while others found the sight a bit more revolting.

“Seam, what the _fuck_ , man?” Thomas seemed to be in the latter camp.

“Mr. Thomas you will take ten points from Gryffindor for your vulgar language! Mr. Finnegan, you will follow me to the Infirmary. Class dismissed.”

Finnegan trudged out the door of the classroom, struggling to maintain the weight of his now enormous head.

Draco felt mildly horrified that he had lost control like that, but he couldn’t be too fussed when it was fucking _Finnegan_. I mean…really. What kind of a name is “ _Seamus_ ” anyway? Maybe he’ll associate this incident with trying to look down Hermione’s shirt and it’ll teach him to keep his mitts off Draco’s girl.

Draco gathered his belongings and shifted his gaze briefly to Hermione. She was looking at him, but once he caught her she immediately fixed her attention on her book bag. Draco smirked slightly. _Gods_ it felt good to smirk. He probably hadn’t felt enough good enough about himself to smirk all week.

So Hermione looked at him. It was something. At this point, Draco would take anything she’d give him.


	20. The Slytherin Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione talk.

_He fucking did it, that little shit._

Not to beat a dead horse, but Hermione was a smart witch. She knew Seamus’s head didn’t grow five times its normal size of its own volition. She had seen Draco’s face during Charms class, casting dark glares at the Irish wizard. She wasn’t totally sure why, but she knew he was behind it.

Over the past few weeks, she had observed the cracks in the seemingly flawless Slytherin façade that was Draco Malfoy’s visage. Once she cracked the code, she found him to be _quite_ expressive.

He did this thing with his top lip where he’d raise it slightly to the left whenever he found something funny, but it was “beneath him” to laugh.

He blushed at the top of his ears when he was…um…let’s say _excited_. Needless to say, she had seen that pale pink flush on his ears _many_ times.

When he was angry he didn’t blink. It was creepy and Slytherin-as-fuck, and she had seen that same expression in his eyes the other day in Charms, just as she had seen it that day in the broom closet when he called her a Mudblood.

She knew his little expressions that revealed the covertly emotional boy he was underneath his Slytherin mask. He could probably hide from his fellow snakes, but he couldn’t hide from her.

And she could never hide from him.

________________________________

 

Draco walked along the seventh floor corridor, looking forward to another just _lovely_ afternoon of practical Arithmancy and self-loathing, when a strange force pulled him into the nearest broom closet. A silent _Lumos_ was cast which revealed the identity of the perpetrator.

“Hermione?” Draco nearly choked with relief. And also a little awe. _Damn. For such a little thing, she’s fucking **strong**._

She looked at him with her stubborn whiskey eyes and said, “Only way to get you alone.”

A faint smile painted his face. He could only project that him being here was a good thing. “You can have me alone any time you want.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now?”

“…Maybe.”

She scoffed. “You seem rather proud of yourself.”

“You’ve met me, yes?”

 _Cute_. “Why did you inflate Seamus’s head in Charms the other day?”

He shrugged. “Because I hate him.”

“You hate everybody.”

“No, I only hate _most_ everybody. And _all_ Gryffindors, present company excluded.”

“Were you trying to get my attention or something? Is that what this was?”

He sighed. “No, I wouldn’t do that. I’ve been trying to give you your space because that’s what you asked for.”

Hermione’s eyes softened. “Why, then?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to. I just…I lost control.”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up. “You _lost control_? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Neither does pining after Hermione Granger, but here we are.”

Hermione blushed. _Pining?_ “…Really?”

He smiled, and unable to stand not touching her for another second, reached out to tug gently on a curly lock, loving the way it bounced at his attention. “Yes. Is that not obvious?” She smiled shyly up at him, not quite meeting his adoring gaze. “Hermione, I lost control the other day because Finnegan is a fucking creep. The way he talked to you and looked at you…I didn’t like it. And I realize  _I_ don’t exactly have a pristine record in that department, but I want to be better. And when I saw him flirting with you…I just…”

“You went full cave man.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow. _What in Merlin's fuck is a “cave man”? Eh, not important._ “Are you angry with me?”

Hermione let out a low chuckle in her throat. “No, I’m not. I was when I thought you did it as a way of getting my attention, but…I don’t know. I guess it’s actually...kind of sweet.”

Draco smiled and reached for her hand, running his thumb across her knuckles. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

Hermione bit her lip. “It means I miss you.”

Draco beamed at her with a smile that reached up to those pewter eyes and filled them with light and warmth. “I miss you too.” Going for broke, he gently pulled her to him and pressed his lips against hers. To his utter relief she kissed him back.

 _Gods_ he had missed her lips so much. He deepened the kiss and pulled her flush against him, cupping her cheek with one hand and planting one firmly on the small of her back. When he felt her tongue running across his bottom lip, he obeyed her silent request by opening his mouth and greeting her tongue with his own. It felt like ages since he had tasted her. He would have gladly drowned in this taste.

When she broke the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her and she pressed her face into his chest. They stayed like that for several moments, holding each other. Draco kissed the top of her head. “I really am so sorry that I hurt you. I promise I’ll never do it again.”

She smiled against his chest. “I believe you.” She inhaled the spicy _maleness_  of his scent. She had missed it so much.

He ran his hands up and down her back, committing the feel of her to his fingertips, hardly believing that she was in his arms again. “I’m sorry about your friend. I should have been there for you.”

Hermione removed her face from his chest. She looked up into those silver pools and saw more sincerity that she could have ever imagined possible of him. It was utterly disarming. She sighed. “It’s just been shit. All of this.”

“Will he be alright?”

She nodded. “He’ll be fine. But he still hasn’t…” she felt herself tear up. “He hasn’t woken up yet.” A single tear slid down her cheek. She looked at the floor, not wanting him to see. He saw it just the same and brought this hand to cup her face, moving his thumb down her cheek to wipe away the tear. She made no move to stop him. She had missed his touch so badly.

“Please don’t cry.” He tipped her head up and kissed her softly.

Her eyes were glassy, full of tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry. It’s just who knows when he’ll wake up.”

He kissed her nose and whispered softly, “I wish there was something I could do.”

She looked at him incredulously. “But you don’t like Ron.”

“I don’t. I think he’s a wanker. But _you_ do. He’s one of your closest friends. And I don’t like seeing you sad.”

_There they are. Those **fucking** puppy dog eyes again._

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss. He instantly sprang to life, his hands everywhere. He couldn’t touch her enough.

 _Thank gods she still wants me._ He slipped his fingers under her blouse. He felt electrified at the feel of her smooth skin after having been deprived of it for what had seemed like ages. The kiss became greedy and raw and the two were panting into each other’s mouths, clawing at their bodies. Hermione was practically climbing him.

She narrowed her pupil-blown eyes. “Take off your fucking clothes.”

He groaned. Although it might not be ideal for their reconciliation sex to happen as a fast fuck against the wall in a broom cupboard, he needed to be inside her right now. He undid his belt, trousers, and underwear so fast he nearly shredded them. She made short work of her skirt, knickers, and blouse and lunged at him, grabbing both sides of his shirt and tugging.

Draco nearly came in his pants at the sound of the buttons popping off his shirt and pinging against the wall. “Holy _fuck_ that’s hot.”

He grabbed her by the arse and lifted her, her legs wrapping around his middle, her core in direct line of his cock. He spun them around and pinned her against the wall. His mouth latched onto her neck, biting and licking and savoring her sweet, delicate skin. She moaned in his ear as his hand kneaded her arse with one hand while the other pushed up the cup of her bra. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, causing her to gasp and buck her hips against him. Her slippery heat teased the length of his dick and he very nearly cried out. It felt so good it almost hurt. “Oh, _fuck_ Hermione.”

He couldn’t wait anymore. He slammed into her.

 _Fucking seven hells, I’m going to come right now_. His cock rejoiced at the feel of her silky heat. She felt like home. _His_ home. He never wanted to leave it again. He snapped his hips, ramming her into the wall. If she was uncomfortable with the position she sure as fuck didn’t show it.

“Oh, yes, _please_ ,” she moaned.

“ _Merlin_ I’ve missed you.” He rammed into her again, and again, and again. Every thrust was met with a moan and a breathy plea of “ _Don’t stop_ ,” or “ _Please_ _, yes_ ”. He fucked her urgently, grinding his pelvis against her clit, rolling his hips with every brush against that sweet little nub to draw out her pleasure.

“Oh god, oh god, _fuck_.” She came with a wail.

Draco snatched her hips and pulled her as tightly to him as possible, allowing her ride out her orgasm. He never felt happier than when she was coming around him. If he could do nothing else worthwhile in this life, he could at least make Hermione Granger come. She was so full of light and brilliance that he could hardly believe she was real in this bleak world. And _he_ could bring her pleasure. He felt enormously important in that moment. He could easily make this his life’s work.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into her mouth as she came down. He continued to thrust into her sensitive, soft cunt. “You feel amazing, Hermione. _So_ good. I never get over how good you feel.”

She sighed sweetly and kissed him as he pumped into her. She was so spent from her own orgasm that she felt positively boneless. They never stopped kissing even as he came, pouring his moans into the kiss, humming and sending ripples of vibrations from his lips through her body. Coming inside her made him feel _alive_. If there was any doubt that he was _completely_ addicted to her, it was gone. 

He sat her down gently on the ground, regretting that he had to pull out of her. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he couldn’t find the words right now. He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her face to his until their foreheads were touching. He hoped she understood what he was trying to say with this wordless gesture.

“I ruined your shirt.”

He grinned. Of _course_ she would say that right this second. “You are a ruiner of moments.”

She giggled. “I’ll fix it for you.”

The two dressed and Hermione summoned his buttons and fixed them to his shirt with a simple _Reparo_. After he had buttoned it back up, Draco grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “I really did miss you.”

She smirked. “I could tell.”

He rolled his eyes, grinning. “Go ahead. Tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“I would never say that.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her again. It felt so good to just be able to _kiss_ her after all this. The fact that he was allowed to meant the world to him.

Hermione nuzzled him sweetly. “I just wish I had remembered to cast a Silencing Charm before you came in here.”

Draco leapt back in horror. The two of them had _never_ gotten the hang of being quiet during sex. They were even loud the first time they made out in the library when Madam Pince nearly caught him with his hand up her jumper. What they did just now would have had everyone in the castle reaching for their earplugs. “You _what_?”

She smirked. “Joking.”

He bit his lip in a smile. “You spend too much time around the She-Weasel.”

“I spend too much time around _you_.”

He shook his head and crooked an arm around her waist. “You don’t spend _enough_ time with me. Especially lately. A fact which I intend to remedy at every possible venture.”

“You’re spoiled.”

“I know.”

“And a prat.”

“I am.”

She giggled. “Why are you _only_ nice to me?”

He inhaled deeply and took her hands in his. He sighed deeply and swallowed, looking down at their joined hands, trying to collect his thoughts on exactly how he wanted to answer that question. When he looked back at her, she saw that same disarming sincerity in his usually mercurial eyes. He licked his bottom lip, readying himself for what he was about to say. His heart was in his throat…

Knock, knock, knock.

He huffed in irritation. _Now who the fuck could that be?_ He walked over to the door, and slammed it open. Ginny Weasley stood there with an apology in her eyes.

“Yeah?” he asked, a little more harshly than necessary.

“Sorry to interrupt. Harry gave me the map to find Hermione and I saw you guys.”

“And?” Draco had known that Ginny was in on their secret for a while now. He was glad Hermione always had someone to cover for her. It meant he could see her more often.

“Hermione in there?”

Hermione shifted, realizing she had been somewhat paralyzed by Draco’s piercing stare before their interruption. “I’m here. What’s up?” She moved to the door.

“Pomfrey ran a new diagnostic spell on Ron this morning. There’s no trace of poison in his system.”

Hermione sighed with relief. “Thank Merlin. Is he awake?”

“Not yet, but Madam Pomfrey says with the poison out of his system it shouldn’t be long now.”

“That’s wonderful, Gin. Thank you so much for telling me.”

Ginny nodded and left the two alone. Clearly she had interrupted something.

Draco shut the door and stood behind Hermione, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “You okay?” he whispered in her ear.

She nodded. “He’s going to be alright.”

Draco wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to target Weasley.”

Hermione leaned into his chest. “He wasn’t the target. Slughorn was…or maybe Dumbledore. Anyway, it was something in Slughorn’s mead.”

Draco paled. His breath hitched.

She felt him stiffen. “Draco? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He felt hot bile forcing its way up his stomach. _He_ had done this. It was _him_. He was the reason Weasley was laying in that hospital bed half-dead. He remembered his words to her. _“I wish there was something I could do.”_ He had done enough. If she knew, he’d lose her forever.

She turned to face him. “Something’s wrong. Tell me.”

Draco shook his head. He needed his Slytherin mask back _now_. She couldn’t know. As selfish as it was, he couldn’t lose her again. “It’s just not exactly a comfort to think that anyone would be able to get poison that close to the Potions Professor and get away with it.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly but seemed satisfied enough. “I agree. Ron was lucky. And so was Katie, with that necklace.”

Draco ignored the knot in his gut at the mention of that goddamned necklace and that poor girl he _Imperius_ ed.

She continued. “Nobody can rely on that kind of luck. Who knows if next time—“

“There won’t _be_ a next time.”

“You can’t know that. Remember second year? I don't because I was petrified for a lot of it. Remember what happened to Cedric Diggory our fourth year? Hogwarts isn’t exactly a safe place.”

“You don’t feel safe?”, he asked in a small voice.

She shook her head. “I’m Harry Potter’s best friend. I’m Muggleborn. I’m never safe.”

He felt his stomach turn to stone. She was right. She wasn’t safe. Nobody was safe really, but especially not her. When Draco thought about the danger he put her in just by being near her he had to restrain himself from punching walls. _That’s what the Occlumency is for. It’s for her. You can hide her. You can keep her safe._ He wasn’t sure how exactly he’d do it, but he did know that he would do _anything_ to protect her.

He frowned. “Do you ever think…being with me…does it scare you? Because of my family?”

She smiled sadly at him. After what seemed like an eternity she shook her head. “No, Draco. I trust you.”

He wasn’t sure if he felt like flying or weeping at hearing that. On the one hand, she really _shouldn’t_ trust him. He had done awful things already this year and would continue to do more. He was a Death Eater. He was on a mission from the Dark Lord to kill the most powerful wizard in the world and bring a whole crew of depraved psychopaths into the school.

On the other hand, he really _would_ do anything to protect her. He’d gladly _Avada_ any Death Eater who ever tried to lay a hand on her.

He kissed her. “I’ll do everything I can to make you not regret that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hohoho! Betcha weren't expecting those lemons!
> 
> I sincerely hope from the bottom of my heart that everyone who (to use the brilliant phrasing of MorganaAna) shouted into the horizon "FUCK!!!" at Draco and Hermione's "breakup" will find themselves contented and full of some warm and fuzzies. My gift to you is that I promise not to torture you further...for a while. ;)
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy fluff and lemons and sweetness. It's a goddamned lemon meringue pie up in here at this point.


	21. The G-bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BOOM!!!

A few days later Ron awoke from his coma. It should have been a happy moment, but the circumstances proved rather awkward.

Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Lavender were all huddled around Ron’s bed doing homework when Ron stirred.

“ _Her…mione_.”

They all heard it. There was no way to pretend they hadn’t. Without ceremony Lavender burst into tears and ran from the Infirmary.

Hermione bit her lip sheepishly. Harry put his hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Ginny folded her arms across her chest. “Well, shit.”

________________________

 

That evening, Hermione went to meet Draco in the Room. She was anxious to tell him the good news of Ron’s recovery. When she entered, she was greeted with a very stern looking Draco glowering in front of the fire. He didn’t look up when she entered.

“Hi!”

No reaction.

She removed her shoes and went to sit next to him on the couch. He shifted away from her slightly.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He shook his head, still not looking at her.

“What’s wrong, Draco? What happened?”

He shook his head again, licked his lips and continued to refuse to look at her.

“ _Draco_. You will _not_ shut me out like this. You promised me you wouldn’t, remember?”

He turned sharply to meet her glare for glare. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“Well _yes_ actually. I was _going_ to tell you that Ron finally woke up but then you decided to be world’s biggest prat and ignore me.”

“I already knew that.”

She blinked. “What? You knew? How?”

“Heard some Ravenclaws talking about it. Word travels fast in the Hogwarts Rumor Mill. Especially when Lavender Brown gets involved.” He spoke with casual ice in his voice.

“But this is good news. Ron’s going to be alright.”

"I agree. It's excellent news." He turned away from her.

“Draco, _what_ is your problem? I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Would you like to hear what else Brown’s been spreading around?”

Oh. Shite. She had a feeling where this was going. “What?” she asked innocently.

“Apparently Weasley talks in his sleep. Very interesting things, he says too.”

So he knew. But it wasn’t like it was her fault. “Draco, _grow_ up. So he said my name. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” He raised his voice. _Finally_ a reaction. “Come _on_ , Hermione. He’s _obviously_ still into you. Why else would your name be the first thing he said when he came back from the precipice of death? It’s cliché as fuck, even for him.”

Why was he so angry at _her_? “So what? I’m _not_ into him. Why do you care if he still fancies me?”

“Oh I don’t know. I guess I just don’t _relish_ the idea of another bloke pining after my girlfriend when he’s one of her best friends and he’s already got a history with her!”

Hermione’s breath hitched. “What did you call me?”

Draco realized his mistake. _Fuck_. This was a hell of a way to have the conversation they had been dancing around for a while now. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his face.

“I mean…I just…look, I know we haven’t talked about it or anything, but…I…just.” He rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to look at her. “Nobody _does_ what we do without...I’m not crazy. Alright? You fancy me, I _know_ it. Not just for the sex, I mean. You and I…we’re…I think…I mean I think I’ve made it pretty clear on my end that this isn’t just…that I…I fancy you. Quite a lot. Haven’t I? I mean I _really_ , really like you. You’ve _got_ to know that. Right?”

He couldn’t look at her. That was a lot to get out, and he couldn’t have been less articulate had he been a thirteen-year-old Hufflepuff virgin talking to a pretty girl for the first time. He was such a fucking idiot. He had just been so upset at learning that the fucking Weasel-scum was still in love with Granger and so angry at the idea that maybe she’d go back to him…that fucking “G” word had just come out. Now he’d gone and scared her off and she’d go back to Weasley and _he’d_ be the one left pining for her. _Again_.

Hermione smiled widely. “You’re right. I do fancy you. Quite a lot.”

He looked at her in disbelief. _Draco, don’t be a prat. The girl you like just told you she fancies you back. Say something!_

He attempted to collect his cool. “Well alright then. Now that that’s settled, should we talk about what this means?” He smirked cockily, but inside he was so relieved he could barely breath. He had just given her the power to destroy him utterly, and she chose instead to save him. He’d never been so happy!

“You’re asking me to be your girlfriend?” Her tone was slightly teasing, but she never ceased smiling at him.

He fixed her with his best imperious Malfoy, _what I say goes_ face. “No, I’m saying you _are_ my girlfriend.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No.” He pulled her to him and kissed her so hard it knocked the breath out of her. _Gods_ he was relieved. When they broke apart he ran his thumb across her cheek. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say I’m your boyfriend.”

“I’m your boyfriend.” She teased, obstinately.

“Say it and I’ll stop.”

“Stop what?”

He grabbed her, tickling her ribs. She erupted in a fit of giggles, gasping for air, “Okay! Okay! _Okay_! You’re my _boyfriend_ , you bloody prat!”

He ceased, smiling at her and kissing her sweetly. “Isn’t it nice to get rewarded for good behavior.”

She grimaced. “You are such a spoiled brat.”

“So my girlfriend tells me.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Don’t think that me _consenting_ to be your girlfriend gets you out of me being cross with you for ignoring me earlier. You had no right to be angry at me.”

Draco replied in a businessman-like voice. “Hermione, I believe you are aware that I am a ‘spoiled brat’, yes?”

She snorted, “I _might_ have had an inkling.”

“So it will come as no surprise to you to learn that I do not share?”

“But why get upset at _me_? I’m not asking you to share me.”

“Because I’m a spoiled brat who hadn’t yet claimed you as my girlfriend and I let my petty jealousy get the better of me.”

“Is that Malfoy for ‘I’m sorry’?"

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” He pulled her to him and kissed her neck roughly. “If I’m not mistaken, we just had our first fight.”

“We’ve been fighting with each other our entire childhoods, Malfoy.”

“As an official _couple_ , you bint. That means make-up sex.” He bit her neck in that special spot that always got her going.

“Mmm. You make some good points.”

______________________________________

 

An hour later they lay tangled up in each other, faces shining with perspiration from their exertions, both feeling lighter than air at having confessed their mutual feelings. Hermione lay on Draco’s chest while he played with her hair with one hand and her fingers with the other.

Suddenly he shifted, bringing her up to meet his gaze. He looked serious. “You know we still can’t tell anyone.”

She sighed “I know.”

They both looked regretful. It _sucked_ that they had to keep their relationship a secret. But it was safer than the alternative.

“I wish I didn’t have to keep you a secret” she admitted.

“Me too. I wish I could walk into the Great Hall with my arm around you and turn to Weasley and every other bloke who’s got a hard on for you and let them know that you’re with _me_. I wish I could take you on a real date, and kiss you in public, and all that stuff normal couples do. But I can’t. Not with… _things_ being the way they are. It’s too dangerous.”

“I know.”

He fixed her with a serious look, needing her to understand. “Do you have any idea how happy you make me?” he whispered.

She beamed bashfully. “I’m starting to, I think.”

They spent the rest of the evening kissing and touching and basking in the happiness that they knew where they stood with one another. Draco barely felt the tinge of regret that he was still lying to her. If she only knew…

If she knew that he had to glamour his Dark Mark every time they were together, that he was assisting Death Eaters to get into the school, that he had made two assassination attempts on Dumbledore and had yet to make more, that he was responsible for her friend nearly dying…

She’d hate him. Simple as that. She would want nothing to do with him ever again. And he couldn’t think about that right now. Not when he felt so happy. But he knew that eventually, she would find out. And when that day came, he would throw himself at her feet and beg for forgiveness. He would plead with her to let him keep her safe. He’d suggest that they run away together. But today, today she had agreed to be his girlfriend. Today she was in his arms. Today he made her happy.

The rest could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daw!


	22. You Should See the Other Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is involved in an altercation. She and Draco fall harder for one another.

The next day Hermione snuck back to her dorm, feeling happier than she had ever been in her life. Draco Malfoy was her _boyfriend_. She was floating on air when she traipsed into her room, but stopped when she was greeted with a huffy Lavender Brown.

“…Hey Lavender. Look, about what Ron said, I’m sure he didn’t mean—“

“I know _exactly_ what he meant.”

 _See_ , Hermione thought. _This is why I didn’t want her to know about me and Ron_.

Lavender shrilly demanded, “Are the two of you _together_ now?”

Hermione shook her head vehemently. “ _No_ , Lavender, we’re not. I’m not interested in him that way. All those times I insisted we were just friends? I really meant it.”

“Well maybe you should tell Ron that because he _obviously_ doesn’t know!”

Hermione sighed. “Why does everyone think this is _my_ fault?”

“Maybe because you’re always _throwing_ yourself at him like a _slut_!”

Hermione cheeks flamed. She did _not_ care for the way Lavender was speaking to her. Still…she was a level-headed person (most of the time). She would not lose her temper. “I think that’s a little uncalled for.”

“Were you with him last night?” Lavender demanded.

Hermione cocked her head and narrowed her eyes questioningly. “What? No.”

“Then where _were_ you? You were gone all night. Why are you getting back only just this morning? Where do you _always_ go late at night? And where do you get those love bites that you _sometimes_ forget to heal?”

Hermione was starting to lose patience. She understood that the girl was upset about breaking up with her boyfriend, but she had _no_ intention of taking her place as Ron’s arm candy. Especially when she was quite smitten with her own boyfriend. She spoke evenly. “You know, Lavender. That’s actually none of your goddamn business. I don’t have to explain anything to you. Just know that I didn’t steal your boyfriend, and I have no romantic inclinations towards him.”

“You’re _lying_! I _know_ it!” Chipmunks weren’t this shrill.

Hermione was done. “Grow _up_ , Lavender. I’m not lying and I don’t appreciate being accused of it. And I’m _quite_ sure Ron wasn’t cheating on you. He’s not like that. Maybe he just said my name because somewhere, _deep down_ , he feels suffocated by you. _You’re_ the one who throws yourself at him. It’s _pathetic_ how clingy you are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get dressed.”

As she turned she felt a hand on her shoulder. The last thing she saw was a fist coming closer and closer to her eye.

“ _Ow_! You _bitch_! You hit me! You actually fucking _hit_ me!” Hermione was not what one would call “scrappy” but she did not appreciate being hit in the face, especially when she hadn’t done anything wrong.

 _Oh, so Lav Lav wants to fight? Yeah, okay. I can fucking do that_.

She jumped on the blond, taking them both to the ground. She began punching her in the jaw, in the eye, the mouth, even her breast. Lavender scratched wildly at Hermione’s arms, her neck, her chest. Suddenly she felt a pair of arms pulling her off of the girl.

Parvati just returned from the shower to find her two roommates on each other like rabid hell cats. Despite her association with Lavender, Parvati was smart enough not to jump to conclusions. She knew that Hermione was usually extraordinarily even tempered compared to the other Gryffindors, so she was positive that Lavender had said or done something to provoke her. She might be her best friend, but Parvati knew Lavender wasn’t exactly the most tactful person. She did the sensible thing and broke up the fight.

She grabbed them both off the floor, and marched them over to the fifth year girls’ dorm to get Ginny. Ginny was _delighted_ to learn of the fight. The four girls walked to the Hospital Wing together to prevent further friction between Ron Weasley’s two ex’s.

Hermione made it out alright. Just a shiner that would go down in a couple of days and some ugly scratches on her arms, neck, and chest. Lavender, on the other hand, not actually knowing how to throw a punch, had fractured her hand on Hermione’s cheekbone in addition to the busted lip, bruised jaw, and black eye Hermione had given her. And there was some bruising on her left breast.

Madam Pomfrey huffed, muttering under her breath, “Fighting over a _boy_.”

Once Hermione was finished, Ginny grabbed her and led her out of the Hospital. “Alright, Killer, come with me.”

As they walked to the Great Hall, Ginny was silent for a full minute before asking “So what’d she do? Borrow your jumper without asking and stretch it out? Curse your birth control? Whatever it was, the bitch had it coming.”

“No, Ginny, nothing like that. She accused me of “stealing Ron from her and absolutely _refused_ to believe me when I told her I had no interest in him. She even called me a _slut_. Can you _believe_ that? From _her_? It’s like…kettle much?”

“So you punched her for calling you a slut? Seems fair.”

“No. I lost my temper and insinuated that maybe if she wasn’t so clingy, Ron wouldn’t have lost interest.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “Wow. Bitch.”

“Yeah, maybe. But _hey_ , she punched me in the face. That’s when we started fighting.”

Ginny let out a low whistle. “Damn, Hermione. Just...damn. I don’t know about you this year? The fighting, the pot smoking, the Ferret-fucking.”

Hermione gasped “Oh my god I have something _major_ to tell you on that front!”

“What? Oh my god, you’re not pregnant are you? Because…I was joking about the cursed birth control.”

“What? No, I’m not pregnant.”

"Thank Merlin. The last thing the world needs is a swotty little Ferret spawn adding to the git-population.”

“Could you _stop_ being a bint for ten consecutive seconds so I can tell you that Draco asked me to be his girlfriend last night?”

Ginny gasped, her eyes widened into round orbs. She then proceeded to slap Hermione across the arm.

“ _Ow_! What was that for? I’ve already beaten the hell out of one bitch today.”

“You _promised_ me that the next time you had major news you would tell me somewhere I could react as is my due as your best girl friend!” Ginny couldn’t stay mad. “Oh my gosh, though, Malfoy asked you to be his girlfriend?” She affected the same syrupy voice she used when saw something adorable, like two Pygmy Puffs fighting to fit into a teacup. “That is the most _disgusting_ thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Glad to see you’re happy for me.”

“Oh hush, you know I think this is great. You said yes, didn’t you?”

Hermione nodded, smiling shyly. As the two arrived into the Great Hall, they took their seat at the Gryffindor table. “But Ginny, this doesn’t mean we can go public. It’s still a secret.”

“My lips are sealed. Oh my gosh you guys are so _adorable_.” Her voice became cloyingly sweet and mushy. “You guys are so going to get _ma-weed_ and make wittle fe-wet _babies_.”

“Ginny, I might kill you.”

Hermione glanced over at the Slytherin table to find Draco staring at her in equal parts confusion and horror. He looked around, looked back at her and covertly pointed to his eye, in a questioning gesture, his brows raised, his shoulders shrugged. She shook her head and mouthed _Later_.

After she had finished her meal, she walked out of the Great Hall, knowing that Draco would follow. Once she was certain that he saw her, she opened the door to an abandoned classroom. Thirty seconds later, Draco entered. He cast a _Muffliato_ and a locking charm and promptly asked, “Hermione, what the _fuck_ happened to you?”

“I got in a fight.”

Draco’s looked momentarily taken aback, but then smirked, the moment passing. “Without me? This is a first.”

“Cute.”

“Give me a name. Who’s the future corpse who disfigured my girlfriend?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m _hardly_ disfigured. _This_ ” she pointed to her eye “will go down in a couple of days.” She scoffed. “You should see the other bitch.”

Draco smirked. “Have I told you recently that I utterly adore you? Now tell me who’s going on my shit list.”

Hermione sighed. “Lavender Brown.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “K. Interesting. Why?”

She narrowed her eyes and scowled. “This morning when I got back to my dorm, Lavender accused me of being the reason she and Ron broke up. Can you _believe_ that?”

Draco spoke evenly. “Absolutely I can. You _are_ the reason they broke up.”

“But it wasn’t my fault! And do you think you could take _my_ side in this? If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I apologize.” He folded his arms and looked at her fondly. “Continue with your story. That Brown bint rightfully accused you of being the reason she and Shit-For-Brains broke up?”

“That Brown bint _wrongfully_ accused me of hooking up with Ron behind her back.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow. “That’s ridiculous. I mean for starters, when would you have had the time? You’ve been getting it on with _me_ for the past month and a half and I’ve kept you _very_ busy. If you need me to be your alibi, I’ve got your dental records.” He quipped, pointing to a concealed love bite on his neck.

“Do you want me to finish the story or would you prefer to continue being a git?”

“The former, please.”

“Alright. So Lavender kept going on and on about how I stole Ron from her or whatever and she was being a _right_ shrew. I lost my temper and told her that maybe if she wasn’t so clingy, this all never would have happened.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “You _said_ that? And by ‘this all’ I assume you mean the whole Weasel being secretly in love with you and waking up from his coma with your name on his lips thing,” he deadpanned.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. She moved to exit the room.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. _Hey_. Where are you going?”

“Oh I’m sorry did you want me to finish my story?”

“Please.”

“Are you ready to shut the hell up until I’m finished?”

Draco put his hand over his heart “I promise I will not say a single word until you have finished telling me how Lavender Brown punched you in the face because her boyfriend fancies you instead of her.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a _simply_ wonderful boyfriend. Alright. So, I lost my temper at her and she punched me in the face. So…then I punched _her_ in the face. A few times. And a once or twice in the tit.”

Draco’s eyes widened. His cheeks puffed up like he was about to explode. His eyes watered.

“You may speak now.”

Draco erupted in a fit of laughter. “You punched Lavender Brown in the _tit_? This is the best bloody day of my life! It figures that my girlfriend would get in a fight with another girl, and I would have to hear about it second hand.”

Hermione made a face at him. “I feel for you, I really do.”

"Oh my  _god_ I just saw the scratch marks!"

"Lovely."

"That is  _beyond_ hot!"

"I'm  _thrilled_ that you find my injuries sexually stimulating."

He sobered slightly, cupping her face. “You should go to the Hospital Wing and get that checked out.” He examined her eye, wincing at the sight.

“Already did. Parvati came in from the shower and pulled us off each other. She and Ginny took us to see Madam Pomfrey.”

Draco shook himself, reeling. “ _Wait_. Wait. You mean that not only did you get into a _tit fight_ with another girl—“

“Please don’t call it that.”

“—but then _another_ girl came in from the _shower_ and pulled you guys off each other?”

Hermione nodded. Draco sighed. “Why the bloody fuck do things like this never happen when blokes are around?”

“I’ll say the same thing to you that I said to Ginny. I’ve already beaten the hell out of one bitch today. We both know I can take _you_.” She smirked.

He returned the smirk. “You can take me anytime you want, you little savage.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “True. You’re _entirely_ too easy to get into bed.”

Draco laughed. “So you got her bad, huh?”

“Pft. _Please_. She never had a chance. She even fractured her hand on my _face_ because she didn’t know how to throw a punch properly.”

“Well you do have _exceptionally_ sharp cheekbones.”

Hermione smiled. “You are gifted. Truly you are. Only you can be simultaneously charming _and_ a prat.”

Draco bit his lip and cupped her face. “Is it bad that I’m _extremely_ turned on right now?”

Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow. “From the fact that I got into a fight with another girl? Or the shiner? Because if it’s the latter, then I don’t even know how to explain the levels of fuck—“

He silenced her by slamming his mouth down onto hers. She squeaked, surprised by the kiss, but quickly moaned into his mouth. Grabbing her by the hips, he guided her backwards until she was pressed against the wall. He grazed her breast as his lips moved to her neck.

“Draco,” she breathed. “What…oh, Jesus Christ that feels good.”

He nipped at her earlobe, whispering wickedly, “You’ve had a very trying morning. You should let me help you unwind.” He bunched the hem of her skirt in his hands. “Yes?” he breathed, biting her earlobe again.

His voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine. She moaned at the sensation and replied in a breathy voice. “Y-yes.”

Draco smiled brightly before dropping to his knees and flipping her skirt up to reveal his prize. He inhaled her scent deeply, moaning at its feminine familiarity. It was the stuff of his dreams. His Amortentia. Too eager to wait, he moved her knickers to the side and licked her folds. He felt a tightening in his chest at how much he loved this taste. Sucking on her clit, he licked along the side where she inexplicably seemed to be most sensitive. She wasn’t like anyone, his witch. The sounds she made were downright _animal_ as she ran her fingers through his hair. He could have come alone from those sounds and the smell and taste of her. But that would have to wait. Right now was for her.

Hermione was on fire. The way he was working her with his tongue made her feel like she was about to combust. There was a warming sensation which began in the arch of her feet and spread all over her body. It was almost too much. “Dra-draco!” She came so hard she felt a ringing in her ears.

As he looked up at her flushed and spent, her lips pink and wet from her panting as she attempted to collect her breath, he felt as though light was surging through his blood. Making her come was a high. Some guys collected chocolate frog cards. He collected Hermione Granger’s orgasms. Every ounce of pleasure he gave her he stored away in his memories. He never wanted to forget the way she looked right now.

He wasn’t certain what his future would bring, but he did know that if he didn’t come out the other end of this year alive, he would die a relatively happy man. He didn’t know it was possible to feel like this.

She smiled at him. “That was amazing,” she said as she caught her breath.

He stood up, tilting her chin to kiss her. When he pulled back he smiled at her. Somewhere along the way she had turned his smirks into smiles. When she moved to undo his trousers, he put a gentle hand on her wrist. “No, Hermione. That was for you.”

She looked somewhat surprised. “You don’t want me to…?” She motioned to his bulge.

He grinned. “I _always_ want you. But I can wait until later. I just wanted to make you feel better.”

She smiled. “I—.” She stopped herself, biting her lip. “Thank you,” she said shyly.

He smiled as he went in for another kiss. He couldn’t believe this brilliant, fierce, beautiful girl was his. “Anything for you, princess.”

She blushed sweetly at his sentiment. He never ceased to be amazed how this fiery, passionate girl who just mere hours ago fought a girl for calling her a liar, could still at times be so demure. She inspired in him both passion and gentleness…something he did not know he was capable of before her. He traced her black eye with his fingertips, kissing the bruised area softly. “Does it hurt?”

She grinned, shaking her head. “Not really.”

He kissed her nose. “Still, be careful, princess. I, for one, like your pretty face the way it is.”

She rolled her eyes, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “You are such a prat.”

He smiled, “But a _charming_ prat.”

She giggled. “How did I end up with a silver-tongued snake for a boyfriend?”

He put his arms around her. “Because you were an absolute _saint_ in another life.”

She rolled her eyes, refusing to inflate his already infamously engorged ego more by saying what she was thinking.

_Gods I love him so much._


	23. Boundaries and Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco are interrupted during a moment. Ginny invites Draco to hang out with her and Hermione. Draco has feelings.

Towards the middle of April, the newly of-age wizards began studying for their Apparition tests, Hermione and Ron being among them. Draco, like Harry, didn’t turn seventeen until that summer and was forced to wait another year. Although he did make it a point to tease Hermione for bagging a younger man, to which she retorted that the only thing she had  _bagged_ was an annoying talking pet ferret.

The day of the exam, Hermione returned to the castle from Hogsmeade clutching her new Apparition license. She examined it somewhat critically, not quite agreeing with the way her hair seemed to be falling in the photo, when she heard a small “Pssst” from around the corner. She turned to find Draco leaning against a column, looking rather tired.

“I see that you have returned triumphant.”

She beamed. “I passed! I was so scared I was going to fail, but—“

He silenced her with a kiss. “Hermione, you have never failed an exam in your life.” He wrapped his arms around her. “You were always going to pass.”

She smiled mischievously. “You _know_ , I think my victory calls for a celebration.”

“What did you have in mind?” His voice dropped, fingers tracing patterns on her waist.

She smirked wickedly and pulled him into a nearby classroom.

______________________________

 

They lay naked on the mattress Hermione transfigured from her robes. Draco spooned her, running his hand over her hip, caressing her arse.

“You never wear that pink thong with the bow. Do you still have it?”

She raised her head, to look at him, confused. “How do you know I have knickers like that?”

He smirked. “I looked up your skirt when you were wearing it once.”

She gasped, indignantly. That _git_. “Draco Malfoy, how dare you?”

“Granger, you were _right there_. How could I _not_ look?”

“When was this?”

“Remember that time at the beginning of the year when you were standing on a stool in the library reaching for a book and I nearly ran into you?”

Her eyes widened. “Of _course_ I remember that. You handed it to me. You were _nice_ for Merlin’s sake. I thought you were flirting with me.”

“I _was_ flirting with you. I had just seen your nearly bare arse covered in skimpy lingerie. It was basically my dick talking.”

She rolled her eyes, her smile betraying her amusement. “And after all this time you still remember my knickers I was wearing that day?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. My darling, sweet witch. If you _only_ knew. I had _dreams_ about that you in that thong. And the things I did to you in those dreams…I can’t even talk about it. It’s too traumatic.”

She smacked him on the arm. “You’re a prat.”

“Maybe, but I’m a prat who’s name you were screaming not ten minutes ago.”

Another smack.

“ _Oi!_ ” he protested. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? I know how to handle that.” He held her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. She sighed into his mouth and he moved on top of her, running his hands up the length of her arms, holding them above her head with their fingers intertwined as they kissed. They began to roll their hips into each other and Hermione could feel Draco’s huge—

“ _Hermione_ , I saw you were in here and…” _gasp_. Ginny Weasley’s face matched her hair as she watched the couple scramble to hide their nudity. She shut her eyes and looked away. “I’ll just…uh…wait out here.” The last three words trailing off into silence as she shut the door.

Draco looked at Hermione. He rubbed his face in frustration. “Hermione. Did you maybe forget to lock the door?”

She stared blankly at the wall. “Maybe.”

He sighed. “Right. Let’s go see what the She-Weasel wants.” The two dressed in puffy irritation at their interruption--especially Draco, who was still sporting a boner that had a thing or two it would still like to do to Hermione.

They left the classroom and found Ginny sitting on a bench outside. She feigned innocence as she tried not to look at them.

“Alright.” Hermione sighed deeply and sat next to her friend. “Let’s have a conversation about boundaries.”

“And doors.” Draco interjected. “You know…those things that you’re supposed to _knock on_ before entering a room. I assume you’re familiar with the social convention, despite the fact that your family are practically troglodytes.”

Hermione interjected “Draco, don’t be rude.”

Ginny glared at the wizard, a look of superiority on her face. “You _know_ , Ferret, you seem to have forgotten the potency of my Bag Bogey Hex.” Draco’s eyes narrowed. Ginny continued “Perhaps I should reacquaint—“

“The _both_ of you, pipe down.”

Ginny looked back at Draco. “You’re lucky I like your girlfriend.”

Draco mockingly mouthed her words back to her.

Hermione mumbled something about _babies, the both of you_ and turned to her friend. “I assume you found me on the map?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t check to see if Malfoy was with you. I thought you were alone, so.... I guess I didn’t knock? Sorry about that. From now on, I promise I will assume that you and Malfoy are _always_  going at it like bunnies and I will announce my presence accordingly.”

Draco nodded. “Sounds fair.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and clapped her hands on her lap. “Great. Now that that’s over, let’s never ever think about what just happened again, shall we? Alright now. What’s up?”

“Dean and I broke up.”

Hermione face grimaced in sympathy. “Oh gosh. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I mean, I can’t really be too upset. I’m the one who broke it off and you know he’s been driving me crazy for _months_.”

Hermione rallied. “Let’s do something. Anything you want. I’m officially invoking my duties as your best friend.”

Draco spoke up. “You’re better off, Weasley. Never liked Thomas. Always thought he was a tosser. But then again I think _all_ Gryffindor blokes are tossers.”

Ginny looked at him skeptically. “Are you saying that because he’s Muggleborn?”

Draco looked taken aback. He motioned to Hermione. “You’ve met my girlfriend, right?”

“I just wasn’t sure if she was some sort of exception for you.”

Draco looked seriously at Ginny. “I haven’t believed that blood-supremacy shite for a while now. When I had an opportunity to be with Hermione, I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t care less about her blood status. So kindly shove _that_ up your arse and get on with letting your best friend, who you _just_ prevented from having earth shatteringly hot sex with me, make you feel better about breaking up with your wanker boyfriend.”

Ginny blinked. Once, twice, “Okay Ferret.” It was as close to an apology as he would get.

Hermione watched the entire exchange with great interest. “ _Hoookay_. So…what do you want to do?”

Ginny looked up at the ceiling, contemplating her options. When she made her decision, she turned to Hermione. “I want to smoke out. And Malfoy can come too.”

Malfoy’s raised an eyebrow in bemusement. “You’re inviting me to your Girl’s Night?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “No. I’m inviting you to get stoned with me and your girlfriend while I bash Dean.”

“Hold on a sec.” Hermione interjected. “Dean is our connection. I don’t imagine I can just waltz up to him right now and say ‘Hey there, Dean. Sorry to hear that my friend broke your heart. So anyway, I need to procure some weed for myself, your ex-girlfriend, and Draco Malfoy to smoke together while we talk about how sometimes you can be a bit of a shit.’”

Draco shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

Ginny made a face. “Unnecessary. I nicked this off of him about a week ago.” She pulled a dime bag out of her robes, along with a small packet of rolling papers.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “What the fuck, Ginevra?”

_________________________

 

“I don’t think I feel it.” Draco opined.

The three had taken to a semi open area near the Black Lake to pop Draco’s pot cherry. They laid on their backs, Hermione in the middle, and looked up at the sky—reminiscent of the first time Hermione and Ginny smoked together back in February. “What’s it supposed to feel like?”

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, “ _Shhhh_. Shhh. Hush Ferret. Hush. Listen. Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Hermione?”

Hermione closed her eyes. After a moment she nodded her head. “I hear it. It’s like a _hummmmmmmm_ , right, Ginny?”

Draco grimaced. “I don’t bloody hear _anything_ except the sound of two Gryffin-bints lying out of their teeth.”

“ _Whew_. Your boyfriend is a mean stoner, Hermione.”

“I am not. It just concerns me that I can’t hear something if you two can.”

“You’re wrong, Ginny. He’s not a mean stoner. He’s paranoid. Like Neville.”

Ginny nodded, pointing at her friend and the two held up their fists and bumped them together.

“ _Please_ tell me that you did not just compare me to Longbottom because I just might have to break up with you if you did.”

“Just your stoner persona. But you’re _so_ much more handsome than Neville.” She winked and made a kissy face.

He nodded. “Yes I am. And smarter, and more athletic, and better dressed. And excellent in bed.”

Ginny squinted. “I don’t know. Neville’s gotten _loads_ better looking this year. You notice that, Hermione?”

“He’s definitely gotten better.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You did not just say that. I can _never_ bloody unhear that. I can’t even…no. I don’t even know how to…ugh!”

Ginny inquired, “Why are you so mean to Neville, Malfoy?”

“You mean aside from the fact that he’s the world’s _easiest_ target? I mean Merlin, it’s like he was _made_ to be taunted.”

Hermione jumped to his defense. “Don’t be rude about Neville. He’s nice.”

Draco rolled over on his side and gazed adoringly at Hermione, moving closer to her and running his hand over her own. “Hermione you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You are so nice to Longbottom and you have absolutely no reason to be. No wonder he fancies you.”

“He does not fancy me.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Actually, he does,” Ginny interjected.

“How would you know, Ginny?”

“Dean mentioned it. He notices these things. He picked up a long time ago that Draco liked you. Like…before you two ever got together. Something about the way he _looked_ at you, or some shite.”

Oblivious to the irony, Draco continued to stare at Hermione. “ _Look_ at you. You’re so pretty.” Draco grinned stupidly at his girlfriend. She looked back at him with a similar expression. “You are so gorgeous I could just stare at you all day.”

Hermione blushed prettily. “I like looking at you too.”

The two kissed and Ginny made a gagging noise. “Don’t make me regret inviting you Ferret. We’re supposed to be helping me get over _my_ failed relationship. And you two are just _too_ cute. Watching that exchange was literal torture. We all get it. _You’re_ pretty” she motioned to Hermione. “ _You’re_ pretty” she motioned to Draco. “You two are beautiful both separately and together. You make beautiful sex with each other and if you guys were allowed to procreate you’d make the world’s most beautiful babies.”

“Awww. Gin, that’s so sweet. You’re pretty too. And you know who else thinks so?” She giggled.

“Who?” Ginny inquired.

Hermione looked devious. “Harry.”

Ginny sobered slightly. “What? No, really? _Seriously_? He said that?”

“Actually, he’s had a crush on you since _September_.”

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me? You mean I could have been with Harry this whole time?”

“Hey there, cool down. Dean’s my friend too. Just not as much as Harry. But yeah, Harry’s totally into you. And if Dean’s supposed to be _so good_ at picking up on people’s crushes, then why didn’t he pick up on Harry?” She tapped her head. “Think about it.”

“Potty’s going to go spare when he finds out you told her this.” Draco had his chin rested on Hermione’s stomach, gazing up at her, admiring her prettiness.

“Should I say something to him?” Ginny asked. “I mean, you know I’ve liked him since I was _eleven_. I feel like I should say something.”

“He’ll probably make a move before you do, now that you and Dean are broken up.”

“I don’t think I feel it. What’s it supposed to feel like?” Draco inquired.

“ _Shhh_. Shhh. Shhh.” Hermione put a finger to his lips, which he kissed. “You’re high. Just accept it. You don’t even know it.”

“I don’t think I am.”

Hermione cackled. “Oh my god you’re so high right now you don’t even know. I mean, it took you like _four hours_ to say that. You were all like ‘IIIII dooon’t thiiiink IIIII aaaaammmmmm.’”

They all laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

“Okay, okay, okay. I feel it now.”

_________________________________

 

Later that afternoon they made their way back to the castle. When Hermione and Ginny started towards the Gryffindor Common Room, Draco pulled Hermione in for a fierce kiss.

“Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Please don’t make me watch this. Also, Ferret, I know you’re stoned off your _arse_ , but you should maybe not make out with her in the open where _anyone_ can see.”

Draco blinked. “But she tastes so good.” He sighed sadly. “I’ll miss you,” he murmured.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She ducked her head and whispered “You taste good too.” She kissed his cheek and dashed off to the Common Room. As he watched her walk away, Draco heard the She-Weasel say something to Hermione about her being “dick-whipped.”

He sighed. Keeping their relationship a secret was getting harder and harder. He really just wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and snog her in front of the whole school and write a letter to his father explaining everything, telling him that he was in love with a Muggleborn and he had every intention of being with her, no matter what.

 _In love_. He loved her. He’d loved her for a while now, really. And he thought _maybe_ she loved him too.

Draco rubbed his face and made his way to the Room of Requirement. He wondered if she’d still love him if she knew everything he had done—everything he _would_ do. He hated himself for all of it.

He grew up having everything he ever wanted. His family was wealthy and influential. Their name _meant_ something. He had always been raised to believe that he was lucky to be a Malfoy—that it meant the world was his for the taking.

As he entered the Room, he wished, for the thousandth time that year, that he _hadn’t_ been born a Malfoy.


	24. A Better Place for Young People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get heavy. I know I joke around a lot, but this bit is serious.

“Hermione, can we talk?” Ron sat down in the armchair next to her, looking very nervous.

Hermione bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. _Please don’t let this be about what I think it is._ “Sure.”

The red-head smiled. “We haven’t really talked about…you know. That day.”

_Hell and damnation!_ “What day?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “You know Lavender and I broke up.”

Hermione snorted. “Really? Hadn’t heard. Maybe she should punch me in the face again just to let it sink in.”

He seethed sympathetically. “I’m sorry about that. Who knew she was so…crazy?”

She narrowed her eyes incredulously. “Literally everyone. You just didn’t see it because she let you in her knickers.”

He blushed. “Well, that’s over now. And I think you know why.”

Hermione thought something like this might happen. She sighed. “Ron….”

His face fell. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. We’ve been over this before.”

The two sat in silence for a moment.

“Can you just tell me why?”

Hermione turned to him. “You’re my best friend. You and I…that other thing…it’s not who we are.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “How would you know? You’ve never given us a proper shot.”

“Of course I did. I fancied you for years, Ron. But when it came down to it we just weren’t right together.”

He looked away. “Is there someone else?”

_Yes_. “No.”

He somehow looked more pained to hear that. “So you’d rather be alone than with me?”

She hated this. The whole reason she ended things with him to begin with was because she wanted to avoid hurting him. “Ron, it’s not like that.”

He was properly angry now. “Then what _is_ it like? Either you love me or you don’t. And you obviously don’t. Which is a _fucking_ shame.”

“Ron, I’m sor—“

“I don’t need your _pity_ , Hermione.” He stood to leave. “Look…if you ever change your mind…”

She closed her eyes at that. There would be no changing her mind.

_Draco_. She was pretty sure she loved him. But how could she tell Ron that? He’d never understand. Worse. He’d never forgive her. But she couldn’t just let him hold a torch for her. It wasn’t fair to him.

“Ron…there _is_  someone else.”

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Oh.” He swallowed loudly. “So I’m too late.”

She nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah.”

“May I ask who?”

She shook her head, finally turning to him. “I can’t tell you that. We’re…we want to keep it private. But I wanted you to know so you didn’t…” she sighed, “I just can’t let you wait for me.”

Ron smiled sadly. “I see. So it’s serious?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “He’d better be good enough for you.”

She smiled. “He’s awful for me, actually. But there’s nothing for it.”

_______________________

 

Over the next week and a half Draco received two letters from his father berating him for not having fixed the Vanishing Cabinet already.

After the first letter, Draco felt rage. He crumpled the paper up and threw it into the fire. Then he tracked down Hermione, dragged her to the nearest empty room, and made feverish love to her against the wall.

He hated his father now. It was _his_ fault he and his mother were caught up in this mess. _His_ fault Draco had to hide the girl he loved.

With the arrival of the second letter, Draco felt despair. The letter contained descriptions of veiled threats from the Dark Lord regarding a certain blond woman Nagini had her eye on. Worst of all, his father didn’t seem to care. All that mattered to him was that the Dark Lord held him in high regard.

He was going to be sick. He ran to the nearest bathroom and vomited up the contents of his stomach.

As he looked at himself in the mirror, he hardly recognized the face he saw. Gone was the arrogance, the panache with which he usually carried himself. The person looking back at him was a coward. A person whose loved ones would be better off without him.

For the first time in years, Draco cried. He cried for his mother held hostage in her own home. He cried for Hermione, so fierce and lovely, and eternally a target for people like his father. Draco wasn’t worthy to breathe the same air as her, much less ask her to love him.

Footsteps approached. Draco rallied. _No one_ could catch him like this.

He edged nearer until he saw Potter’s reflection in the mirror.

_Potter_. Orphaned as a baby, raised by Muggles, nothing special about him, and _still_ everything always fell into place for that insufferable human shit-stain. It wasn’t bloody fair.

“What the _fuck_ do you want, Potter?”

“What the _fuck_ are you _up_ to, Malfoy? I know it’s something wrong. I kn—“ He paused, his gaze resting on Draco’s left forearm, where Draco had rolled up his sleeves.

Draco saw him see. He knew that he knew…and he fumed.

What right had Potter to judge _him_? He was little better, always using Hermione as a human shield. Putting her in danger. Taking ludicrous risks with his own life, which was perfectly fucking fine as long as he left the girl Draco loved out of it. Potter had no right to her either.

Draco wanted to hurt him…badly.

“ _Cruc_ —“

“ _Sectumsempra_!”

Draco felt white hot knives running over his chest, his back, his stomach. He collapsed to the floor, mesmerized by the sight of his blood pooling around him.

_So much blood._

Things began to fade. He distantly heard Potter’s voice yelling something and another voice…he couldn’t make out who. Just before he lost consciousness, he wished that he could have seen Hermione just one last time.

____________________________

 

Hermione marched puffy eyed up to Harry in the Common Room and spoke in a quiet, imperious tone. “Give me your cloak.”

“What f—“

“Don’t fucking _argue_ with me. I just need it.”

She looked frightening in that moment. Her eyes were wild. He’d never seen her look like this—so raw. So emotional. So _Gryffindor_.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll go get it.”

____________________________

 

_I promise I’ll be perfect. Just let him live and I’ll be perfect._

Hermione had never believed in God. It didn’t stop her from praying for the first time in her life. Manically. To anyone, everyone, whatever was out there listening.

_Please don’t take him from me. We weren’t finished. We’re supposed to have more time._

And Harry. She was too angry to berate him. This went beyond that. She might never forgive him. What if Draco died?

_Don’t even fucking think it._

It had taken every ounce of strength she possessed not to barge down to the Infirmary immediately after it happened. She was fairly certain she’d never be able to cry again. There was nothing left.

_This isn’t happening. I’ll wake up and find none of this was real._

Tucked under the cloak, she entered the infirmary in a fevered haze. Her body didn’t feel like her own. Her mind didn’t feel like her own.

She made her way to Draco’s bed, making as little noise as humanly possible.

_Let him live. Let him live. Please, please, please._

His torso was completely covered in bandages. His face, usually pale, was now only a shade or two darker than fresh snow. His breath was shallow. But he was alive. For now.

_Let him live. Let him live. Let him live or I will burn this world to the ground._

She tried not to react because she didn’t want to wake him. But she was in hell watching him lie there helpless in that hospital bed. In that moment, she wanted to kill Harry. It was a strange sensation. She’d never wanted to kill anyone before. Let alone her best friend.

She had been wrong before. She wasn’t finished crying.

_Don’t you fucking do it. He needs you to be strong._

It was no good. She was powerless to stop it. She sobbed as she brushed his hand with her fingertips. He was so cold.

“You can’t leave me here, alright?” she whispered to him through her tears. “Please don’t leave me.”

Draco shifted and opened his eyes slowly. He felt something, but he couldn’t see it. There was a warmth and a wetness on his hand.

Hermione’s breath hitched. “Draco. It’s me.” She removed the cloak.

Draco’s face broke into a pained smile. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here.” She tried to hide that she’d been crying. He didn’t like to see her cry. “I thought I’d lost you.”

He tried to smile to assure her, but everything hurt so much. “It’s alright. I’m okay.” He hated to see his witch upset. “Please don’t cry.” He shifted in the bed, wishing he had the strength to push himself up and wipe away her tears. “Will you stay with me tonight?” He sounded as raw as the first time he asked her that question. Like he was worried she’d say no.

She smiled sadly. “Of course, I will.” She settled next him, careful not to touch his bandages. He threw an arm around her and pulled her closer. She deposited a sweet kiss on his neck and he nuzzled her.

He whispered as he drifted into a pain-killer induced sleep, “I’ll never leave you, Hermione.”

Hermione sobbed silently. She almost lost this boy today. This beautiful, wonderful, flawed boy who held her so gently and made promises to her he couldn’t possibly keep.

Hermione never considered herself a romantic. She never imagined herself having a great love in her life. She chose instead to believe in the power of ideas and knowledge as the forces that could change the world. But as she lay in that hospital bed she couldn’t fight that unbidden voice that had grown louder and louder of late. Just like that day in the classroom the morning she got in the fight.

_Anything for you, princess._

She loved him. She knew that now. No doubt about it.

A single tear ran down her cheek and she whispered back to the sleeping boy. “You’d fucking better not.”

___________________________________________

 

An hour later, Madam Pomfrey made her way through the Hospital Wing to do her rounds. As she approached the bed of the unfortunate young man Professor Snape brought to her earlier that day cut nearly to pieces, she saw that he wasn’t alone.

Miss Granger, a regular patient herself at the Infirmary, was wrapped in his arms.

_My word. How did that happen?_

It was rare enough to see a Slytherin and a Gryffindor share a half-way decent word with one another, let alone a bed. The animosity between Mr. Malfoy and the so-called “Golden Trio” was legendary among the staff, as the four had caused quite a few problems over the years. She shook her head and smiled at the teenagers sleeping so peacefully together. The Malfoy boy held the Gryffindor girl so tenderly. They really did make quite a handsome couple.

She wondered how on Earth the girl snuck into the Infirmary at this hour of the night without being detected? Her gaze shifted to the floor where she spotted a silvery pool of fabric next to the bed. A Cloak of Invisibility most likely.

She really _should_ wake the girl and send her back to her dorm. But the young man had very nearly died today. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to leave the two where they were, especially since their relationship was almost certainly a secret. They probably had no choice but to sneak around when they wished to see one another.

She wouldn’t betray their secret. In times like this, it was comforting to see that something as beautiful as young love could still exist--especially between a Slytherin pureblood and a Gryffindor Muggleborn. She chuckled and draped the Invisibility Cloak over the young witch, wishing that that the world was a better place for these young people. A place where they didn’t have to hide.


	25. Harry Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione have a row.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yeah. I don't own Harry Potter characters or anything.

Hermione woke before Draco. She woke happy because for a moment she forgot they were in a hospital bed and she snuggled closer to him.

It was then she felt how cold he was. _Oh my god. He nearly died last night._

She fought that treacherous sob that was threatening to bubble up tooth and nail. She wouldn’t dare wake him. He needed to sleep so he could heal. And he had _so much_ healing to do. She stealthily shifted out of the bed, but very nearly tripped on the fabric which was precariously draped over her body. Someone must have seen her and covered her up. Who would _do_ that? Merlin bless them, whoever they were.

She pulled the covers over Draco to keep him warm and lightly pushed his fringe out of his eyes. With one final smile at her sleeping boyfriend, she turned to leave the Infirmary.

When she arrived back in the Common Room she found it empty. It was early and everyone else was probably still asleep. As she tip-toed up the stairs to her dorm, she was stopped by a rough, male cough.

_Harry._

He was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with the Marauder’s Map in his lap. Hermione was too angry at him to engage. She knew he must have seen her with Draco. She didn’t care anymore.

“You were in the Infirmary.”

She nodded, her expression blank.

“You were with Malfoy.”

She shrugged.

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” She turned to go, but he jumped up and stopped her, his hand on her elbow. Hermione’s eyes widened, she looked ready to kill as she shoved him away from her.

“You want to do this now?” she demanded.

“I think we should.”

“You got it.” She cast a Muffliato so they couldn’t be heard. She would probably yell at him.

“You were with Malfoy,” Harry repeated.

“You nearly _killed_ him.”

“And I am _sincerely_ sorry for that. If he is ever able to be in the same room as me without wanting to _Avada_ me on the spot, I will tell him so myself.” Harry spoke slowly, needing to convey his sincerity. “I had _no idea_ what that spell would do.”

“Am I an idiot, Harry?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Am. I. A. _Fucking._ Idiot?” She spoke low and dangerous.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“And have you ever known me to pity idiocy or make allowances for it?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Then it should come as no surprise to you that your ignorance is no excuse to me. I can’t even…it’s _beyond_ thick to use a spell not knowing what it will do!”

“I’m not denying that! I know it was stupid. It just…sort of…came out. If I could take it back, I would. I really, really would. Look…Hermione, I can’t _stand_ Malfoy. At all. And I have _irrefutable proof_ that he’s a Death Eater.” Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed, but Harry wouldn’t be interrupted. “ _But_ …I never wanted to kill him. What I can’t wrap my head around is why _you_ care so much.”

“Let’s chalk it up as sympathy for my fellow man.”

“That doesn’t explain why you spent the whole afternoon crying yesterday.” Harry narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing in the Infirmary? You were there all night.”

Hermione looked like a lioness ready to spring. “That map of yours--it’s sick. You will _not_ use that thing to spy on me. I won’t have it, Harry.”

“You’re evading the question.”

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t _owe_ you an explanation.”

“There’s something going on with you two isn’t there?”

Hermione didn’t care anymore. _Let_ him know. Let him feel the gravity that he nearly killed her boyfriend. “You know what? _Yeah_ , Harry. He and I are together. We have been for a while.”

Harry wanted to scream. He suspected maybe the two were friends, but to hear that they were _together_? “Are you out of your damn mind, Hermione? _Think_ about what he is!”

“I’ve had _enough_ of your absurd accusations. I’ll have you know that we’ve been _shagging_ since February and I have never seen a Dark Mark on his arm.”

Harry nearly gagged at the thought. “So _that’s_ why you’re never around anymore? You’ve been hopping on _Death Eater dick_?”

Hermione could have throttled him. “He’s _not_ a Death Eater for the _thousandth_ fucking time!”

“He must have glamoured it then because I saw it! In the bathroom! Just before…before—“

Hermione shoved him as she finished the thought for him. “Before you nearly _killed_ my boyfriend!”

“I didn’t _know_ he was your boyfriend Hermione! But I’m not sure it would have made a difference. I know what I saw. And for your information, he tried to cast an _Unforgiveable_ at me! Why don’t you ask him about _that_ the next time the two of you are holed up in some dusty old broom closet.”

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “How _dare_ you?”

“I’m sorry, Hermione, but this isn’t you! You are _sleeping_ with Malfoy. _Malfoy_! He’s treated you like dirt for years and now all of a sudden you’re jumping into _bed_ with him?”

“You don’t know him, Harry. He’s different now, he’s—“

“A _Death Eater_! How could you keep something like this from me? From Ron?”

“Because of _this_! Because of the way you’re reacting now! Because his father would _literally kill him_ if he knew he sullied himself with a Mudblood! What we’re doing is risky. For both of us.”

“It’s bloody _stupid_ is what it is! You _both_ are out of your fucking minds.”

Hermione could have laughed. “You think you’re in any position to tell _me_ how stupid I am? I have bailed you out for _years_ , Harry! _I_ am the reason you haven’t died ten times over by now! You think you have the right to judge _me_? By all means, Harry continue with your fucking mansplaining. But _I’m_ not the idiot here. I know Draco has a less-than-perfect record with me. But so do you. Draco at least _acknowledges_ that he’s not perfect. And he _respects_ me, Harry. He _cares_ about me.”

Harry was taken aback. “Hermione…I don’t…”, he sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m not…I know I don’t always listen to you—“

Hermione snorted “ _Always?_ Let me fucking think, Harry.” She counted fingers, “The procrastination during the second task for the Triwizard Tournament, the Occlumency lessons with Snape, the fucking _memory_ from Slughorn that you _still_ haven’t fucking gotten!”

“I _know_ , Hermione.”

“Oh  _no,_ I could go on.”

“I’m _sorry_ , Hermione! Alright? I get it. I don’t give you the deference you deserve. But this isn’t _about_ that. Hermione... I’m fucking _worried_ about you.”

Hermione softened slightly. “I know. I know you are. But there’s nothing you can say that I haven’t said to myself over and over again. Believe me I have a _library_ of reasons why Draco and I shouldn’t be together. But…none of them matter. Not really.”

Harry sighed deeply. “It’s serious, isn’t it?”

Hermione nodded. “I…I love him. And I think he loves me too.”

Harry shook his head and rubbed his face, staring at the ground. “Oh this is _just_ fucking great. You love him. That’s just fucking…I can’t believe this is happening.” He looked up at her with a serious look on his face. “I know you think you love him, but what if I was right, Hermione? What if he _was_ a Death Eater?”

Hermione wet her lips. She had thought about this before. Not necessarily the Death Eater part, but she knew there was _something_ he was keeping from her. And she knew it was killing him. “I’d know it wasn’t by choice. Harry…he’s not _like_ us. We’re the lucky ones. We were born on the _right_ side of the war. His choices…they’ve already been made for him. But he doesn’t want that life. I _know_ it.”

Harry might have found it laughable that Draco Malfoy, wealthy, aristocratic, privileged beyond measure, was born _unlucky_. But she had a point, loathe as he was to admit it.

Harry abhorred Malfoy with every fiber of his being. The thought of that spoiled git putting his hands on his best friend, who he loved like a sister, made him physically ill. But he knew Hermione. He knew she was stubborn and that she didn’t make decisions lightly. “Alright Hermione. I’m not saying I approve of this…union. I still think it’s wrong and sick and _beyond_ disgusting. But I understand it’s difficult for you, and I won’t make it any worse. And…you can count on my…discretion.”

She looked at the floor and nodded her head.

“Forgive me?”

Hermione sighed. “Harry, I’m livid at you. Right now just…I need some space.”

 _Space?_ That’s something girls say when they’re breaking up with you but they’re too nice to really do it. Hermione wasn’t that nice. And she wasn’t his girlfriend. “What does ‘space’ mean?”

She rolled her eyes. “It means that you nearly killed my boyfriend and I’m more than a little put out about it. I’m not finished being angry at you. So you need to _let me_ be angry at you for a little while, alright?”

Ever the straight forward witch. He could handle that. “Deal.”

“And I want you to apologize to Draco.”

Harry sighed. “Deal.”

She nodded. “I should get ready for breakfast.”

Harry stopped her when she turned her back. “Hermione?”

She turned to look at him. “Yeah, Harry.”

“Does he make you happy?”

Her face broke out into a bright smile. A true smile. A smile of a young woman in love. “So happy.”

Harry nodded. Hermione disappeared up the steps, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

____________________________________

 

Malfoy couldn’t leave his bed in the infirmary for two weeks. Hermione visited him every night, bringing homework he had missed and news from around the castle.

“Ginny and Harry are together now.”

Draco shook his head. “The Weaselette isn’t bad people. For a Weasley, that is.” Hermione grinned. “You _know_ how I feel about Potter.”

“I’m still furious with him myself. But he wants to apologize to you.”

Draco snorted. “How precious.”

“He really does feel terrible. He knows what he did was wrong. You’ll hear him out, won’t you?”

Draco swallowed and rolled his eyes. “Just to be clear, I _utterly despise_ him and that’s never going to change.” He sighed, “But for _you_ , I suppose I’ll _allow him_ to apologize. I’m not saying I’ll forgive him, but I’m not going to stop him if he wants to grovel.”

Hermione beamed. “That’s great, Draco. Um…he also…sort of _knows_ about us.”

Draco frowned. “He knows? How?”

“The map. That night I came to you he saw us.”

Draco fumed. “When I get out of here I’m going to nick that map, burn it, and hex his _bollocks_ into his mouth.”

Hermione laughed. “He won’t tell. He’s not exactly _thrilled_ about it, but he won’t rat us out.” She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. She wanted to bring up the Dark Mark that Harry insisted he saw on his arm. She wanted to ask him if he really tried to use an Unforgiveable against Harry. But now wasn’t the time.

Draco looked at her curiously. “Alright then.” He had regained his color, and was no longer in constant pain. “Madam Pomfrey said I can get out of here in a few days.”

Hermione smiled. “I’m glad.” She blushed, smirking slightly “I miss you.”

“You come to see me every night.” He was teasing her. He knew what she meant. He certainly missed her too. Sweet _Merlin_ did he miss her. And to make matters worse it was virtually impossible to have a discreet wank in the infirmary. So just go ahead and add “dying of sexual frustration” to the list of maladies on his chart.

She rolled her eyes. “I miss our…special time.”

“Special time?” He crossed his arms in amusement. “Is _that_ what the kids are calling it?”

“Shut it, you.” She lightly smacked him on the arm.

“ _Hey!_ Invalid here, you daft harpy.” He rubbed his arm in faux incredulity.

They missed Madam Pomfrey’s amused glances as they laughed together. She said nothing and gave them their space. She and Miss Granger had an unspoken agreement that if she saw her coming or going from the Infirmary, she would promptly turn her head as though she had seen nothing. She only hoped this was the worst thing the couple would have to endure. But it pained her to think that it would probably get much worse sooner rather than later, not just for the lovers, but for them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have always thought that Harry and Ron never appreciated Hermione the way they should have. It's part of the reason I like the idea of her with Draco because I suspect he's smart enough to appreciate her--if you can get past the blood prejudice and all that. I always thought Hermione and Harry should have had a real fight like she and Ron had in the Deathly Hallows. She never really put him in his place like he needed. What do you guys think?


	26. Sorry I'm Not Sorry

“Hey. Hermione?” Ginny snapped her fingers. “Are you even listening to me?”

Hermione was exhausted. She’d been sneaking out every night to the hospital wing to see Draco. The immediate danger had finally passed, but Madam Pomfrey wasn’t comfortable enough to discharge him just yet. She had been dozing off while Ginny was talking. She shook herself. “Yes. Of course I was listening.”

Ginny smirked. “What was the last thing I said?”

“Um…something about…how much you love Harry?”

“No.”

“Something swotty about Quidditch?”

“No.”

Hermione sighed. “Fine. You caught me.”

“Are you _that_ tired?”

“Well, between school, life, my boyfriend getting butchered by your boyfriend, and Hell Week, I haven’t been getting very much sleep.”

Ginny’s face scrunched. “Hell Week?”

Hermione waived it off. “It’s when Lavender and Parvati get their periods. They synchronized sometime around third year and it makes for a fucking _lovely_ week once a month.”

Ginny giggled. “I imagine Lavender is like…Bint Squared when she’s on the rag.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and I _don’t_ get it. I’m a girl too and _I’ve_ never gotten PMS. I’m convinced it’s a myth.”

Ginny raised a cool eyebrow. “Hermione, I love you. But them’s fightin’ words.”

“Is it actually real? I’ve never even gotten cramps.”

You could have knocked Ginny over with a feather. “I _will_ punch you in your perky little ovaries.”

Hermione recoiled slightly. “Alright new topic. How are things with Harry?”

Ginny grinned. “Amazing,” she sighed. “We’re still in that stage where everything he does is cute or funny. I mean we’re not as gross as you and Malfoy, but we’re still sufficiently sickening.”

“Draco and I are _not_ gross.”

“You are certifiably insane if you really think that.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “How’s Harry? Just…in general?”

Ginny’s eyes softened. “He misses you.”

“I know. I miss him too, but…you know I’m just not finished being mad at him yet. He nearly _killed_ —“

“I know. Believe me, I know. And so does he. He’s my boyfriend so I have to stand by him and all that, but I’m not going to say what he did wasn’t _astronomically_ thick.”

“Thanks, Gin.”

“Any time. The Ferret…I guess he’s not so bad.”

Hermione snorted. “Well don’t get all gushy on me.”

“Hey, that’s a _huge_ concession. This may come as a surprise to you, because you seem to have forgotten the previous five years of your life, but not everyone likes Malfoy. You’re just blind to it because you regularly S his D.”

“Charming.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Harry announced his presence as he sat next to Ginny, throwing an arm casually around her shoulder.

Ginny smirked as she placed a small kiss on his cheek. “Hermione giving Malfoy head.”

“Aaaaand…with that, he left—never to be heard of again.” Harry scrambled to get up. He tried to catch Hermione’s eye but she wouldn’t acknowledge him. As he walked away she spoke.

“Have you apologized to Draco yet?”

He turned around. “I will. Right now.”

Hermione nodded. “I talked to him. He’ll listen.”

Harry shot her a grateful look and headed towards the entrance.

Ginny sighed. "Do you think we'll  _ever_ get to that point where the four of us can just...hang out together. You know? Me and Harry, you and Malfoy?"

Hermione chuckled. "I wouldn't count on it."

______________________________

 

It was Draco’s last day in the Infirmary. He could hardly wait to meet Hermione in the Room tomorrow. It had been _far_ too long since he’d been properly alone with her. And all because of that arrogant, spectacled, toe-rag of a best friend of hers who seemed to be under the impression that the sun rose and set out of his arsehole.

As if on cue, Harry “Great Decisions” Potter shadowed the threshold of the Hospital Wing. Just as Draco was starting to daydream about all the things he would do with Hermione tomorrow too. Unbelievable. In addition to all his other fine attributes, now he was cock-blocking Draco’s fantasies.

As he walked closer to his bedside, Draco fixed him with a look equal parts boredom and loathing. “Here to beg my forgiveness, Potter?”

“Partly.”

“Then get it over with, will you? I’d rather heal in peace without having your over-sized head hovering over me.”

“I’m here to apologize and to tell you that I think you’re the scum of the earth.”

Draco scowled. “You’re _bollocks_ at apologizing.”

Harry acted like he didn't hear him. “I mean just _bottom-of-the-barrel_  human garbage. You’ll never be good enough for Hermione.” 

"Great, Potter. Finally, we agree on something. And if this is your idea of an apology then you’re even stupider than I imagined. And I’ve got to say, I always thought you were border-lined developmentally disabled.”

Harry waved away Malfoy’s jibe towards him. “You _don’t_ think you’re good enough for Hermione?”

“I’m not the one who suffers from delusions of grandeur, Potter.”

“But you’re the most arrogant, narcissistic person on the planet.”

“Kettle much?” Draco folded him arms and quirked an eyebrow at the black-haired boy. “I know I don’t deserve her. But who does? At any rate I really don’t have to explain myself to you, Potter. I told Granger I’d let you apologize and that’s pretty much the only reason you’re not a greasy spot on the floor right now. So either get on with your pathetic attempt at pretending to regret what you did or leave me the fuck alone.”

Harry riled. “You’re just going to sit there and pretend that I _didn’t_ see your… new tattoo? Don’t you think Hermione deserves to know?”

Draco glared at the boy. “Of _course_ she deserves to know, Potter. You have no idea how many times I’ve come close to telling her.”

“Then _do_ it! She thinks she loves you and I’m not going to let her make a decision like that if she doesn’t have all the facts.”

Draco softened. “She…she told you that? That she loves me?” he gulped. He dearly, dearly wanted to hear the words come from her rather than Boy Wonder, but he couldn’t help but inquire.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ask her yourself. I am certainly not going to involve myself in this…abomination between you two.”

Draco quipped, “Smartest thing you’ve ever said, Potter. Stay out of it.”

Harry glowered. “But just so you know, that hex I used against you will feel like a _papercut_ compared to what I do to you if you hurt Hermione in any way."

“Believe me, Potter. If I ever hurt her, I’ll _Sectumsempra_ myself.” Draco spoke with absolute conviction.

Harry looked at him inquisitively. “You really do care about her, don’t you? This isn’t just some game to you?”

Draco swallowed and replied in a small voice. “I love her.”

Neither boy said anything for a moment. Finally, Harry spoke, “Have you told her that?”

Draco shook his head. “I wanted to tell her everything else before…I just want to give her a choice. Like you said. And if she chooses that she never wants to see me again, then I’ll try to accept it. And I’ll walk away.”

Harry nodded. “Good. Well then…I guess I’m sorry about…” he motioned to Draco’s torso in a circular pattern “…all this. I never meant to really hurt you.”

Draco snorted. “Get the fuck out of here, Potter.”

Draco thought later that evening about Potter’s travesty of an apology. Loathe as he was to admit it, he was right about one thing. He needed to give Hermione a choice. Before she gave her heart to him, before she chose him, she deserved to know everything.

But what if she hated him? What if she turned around and never looked back?

He would be broken, he knew that. It was too late for him. He would never _not_ want her now. She was it for him. But he couldn’t be selfish any longer. He had to be brave for her. Even if that meant he’d lose her.


	27. The Return of the Thong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is discharged from the Hospital. He meets an old friend. Confessions.

The day Draco left the infirmary Hermione felt like her skin was on fire with how badly she wanted to touch him. All day she gazed longingly at him in the Great Hall, in class, in the hallways, but his Slytherin friends never seemed to leave his side. He’d shoot her secret smiles and looks filled with want that matched her own. Why couldn’t the Slytherins just go away? They seemed to think they were protecting him or something.

Pansy Parkinson was an utter fucking delight as always—attempting to drape herself over him and cooing at him. There were several times Hermione wanted to sock that vapid little minger in her pug-faced snout for daring to paw at her boyfriend. But Draco spurned her advances and otherwise generally ignored her. He’d glance at Hermione during those moments and covertly roll his eyes.

Draco wasn’t faring much better. He only wanted to be with her. Everyone else could go fuck themselves. He couldn’t believe there was ever a time when he couldn’t go anywhere in the castle without at least two cronies. If he’d known all those years he was setting a precedent which would ultimately lead to this moment when he couldn’t be alone with his witch, he’d have made fewer friends from Day 1.

Afternoon rolled around and Draco felt the familiar call he always felt on days like today. If he had to wait to be with Hermione, he would at least do so on his own terms. He headed down to the Quidditch pitch with Blaise and Theo on his tail. The moment he stepped outside he felt his heart would burst as he deeply inhaled the spring air. The rich scent of moist earth and the faint smell of water on the grass had an instant effect on his body. He felt stronger already. Even the anticipation of flying always made him feel like he was truly a part of the world. Like he _really_ belonged to it. His father always said that as a Malfoy, he was separate and above his surroundings and he should carry himself with distinction. But Draco only ever wanted to _belong_. As he soared through the air with the warm wind whipping around him, he felt that sense of belonging—as though he were somehow necessary to the fabric of the earth, accepted by the elements. There were only two things that made him feel so warm and alive: Flying and being with Hermione. He didn’t even have to be inside her—just sitting with her, holding her hand, listening to her talk was enough. For the past two weeks his world had been a cold hospital bed. As he buzzed through the air he felt healthy and happy—like a boy who didn’t have to carry out dangerous, soul-crushing missions for a vainglorious lunatic.

He peered through the stands and saw a familiar silhouette crouching behind a wooden pier.

_Hermione._

His heart sang at the sight of her. He lowered himself to the ground, motioning for Blaise and Theo to do the same. “You two go on back to the castle. I just need to be alone for a while.”

Blaise raised a concerned eyebrow. “You sure?”

Draco scowled. “Potter’s not going to come out here and finish the job if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His two friends nodded and obeyed his instruction. He watched them disappear before he mounted his broom again and flew over to Hermione.

She beamed as he approached. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he said as he landed on the ground next to her and swooped her into his arms for a hard kiss. Gods, she tasted amazing. She tasted like he felt—full of sunshine and life. Every cell in his body awoke and rejoiced at the warmth and the scent of the witch in his arms.

When they broke apart she smiled sweetly. “You fly beautifully.”

She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know, but he loved hearing it from her voice just the same. He tugged playfully on one of her curls. “Thanks.”

“You seem so happy.”

“I am happy.” He took her hand. “Especially now that you’re here.”

She blushed at that. The two held hands as they walked over to a secluded patch of earth under a tree near the stands. Draco sat and pulled Hermione into his lap, securing her head under his chin. They said nothing for a while. They were just content to sit in each other’s arms, so starved were they for one another’s touch.

Hermione nuzzled his neck. “I missed this.”

Draco hummed warmly in agreement. “So did I.” He kissed her temple. “Can we go to our room?”

Hermione smiled against his chest and nodded. The two walked back to the castle, hand-in-hand until they approached close enough to be spotted. Draco bit back a surge of regret at having to let go of her.

When they made their way to the Room, Draco instantly pulled her inside and backed her into the wall. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and let his hands roam over her breasts. She moaned when he pinched her through her jumper. “Draco, slow down,” she all but gasped.

He was shaken from his haze. He released his grip on her, smoothing her jumper. “I’m sorry. I just want to touch you so badly.” He dipped his head to kiss her chastely. He sucked in a deep breath and held her hands in his. “I’ve been in hell all day, having to stay away from you.”

“We’re together now.” She led him over to the couch and they sat in front of the couch, his arm around her, caressing her shoulder. They sat in silence, sometimes kissing, always touching. Hermione felt like a missing piece of her had been returned. She whispered against his chest. “You can’t ever leave me again, alright?”

He held her more tightly to him and whispered against her head. “I’m not going to let anything else come between us, Hermione.” If he had any say in the matter, he’d keep that promise until the day he died.

She raised herself until they were face to face. What she saw in his eyes…it was intense. It scared her but it also filled her with want…with _need_ for him. “Draco.”

His lips were on hers. He kissed her as though she was a lifeline—as though if he stopped kissing her, he would disappear.

“Is it…are you able to…?” She didn’t want him to hurt himself, but she needed him inside her. He nodded, removing her jumper. He loosened her tie and removed her shirt as though she were breakable and precious, with care and devotion. She unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers over the exposed skin. She paused when her fingers brushed against a new scar. She looked at him with her large amber eyes. “Does it still hurt?”

He shook his head. “They’re a little sensitive, that’s all.” He kissed her soothingly, intent on driving away the memory of that awful night. He then stood, took her hand in his, and guided them over to the bed. They laid down and unfastened her skirt. As he skimmed it down her legs, he was greeted by an old friend.

He smirked up at her. “The pink thong.” An animalistic glint in his eyes, “You wore this for me?”

She hummed in response, looking very pleased with herself.

“Cheeky witch.” He snapped the waistband.

“Prat.”

“You love it, princess.” He whispered, lowering himself down her body until he was face to face with the thong. He could scarcely believe that so many months ago, this delicate strip of cloth sparked within him an obsession that turned into something he never imagined he could have. He took the fabric in his teeth and dragged the thong down. She took the cue and raised her hips to make it easier for him to remove the item of clothing. He tossed it aside and turned his attention to the pussy which he had thought about virtually non-stop since he had been stuck in the Infirmary. He placed a hot lick along her slit, moaning at the taste he had missed so much.

Hermione panted, “More.”

His tongue circled her clit and she bucked her hips, desperate for him. His swiped his tongue in what seemed like erratic patterns across the surface of the tiny bud, causing the nerves to sing in a way Hermione never realized was possible. It took a moment before she realized that he was spelling his name.

“Oh, yes, Draco,” she whined.

He so loved that sound. The most beautiful sound in the world. He buried his tongue inside her, lapping at her sweet core. He had been craving her for weeks now and he was eager to imprint her essence upon him once again. When she cried out, he didn’t stop. He needed more of her. He tumbled her over the edge a second time, and he would have kept going if she hadn’t pushed him away.

“Need you,” she begged.

His face emerged from her thighs he grinned widely at her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his lips. He crawled up her boneless body and kissed her on the lips, flicking his tongue inside her mouth. Hermione cupped his erection through his trousers. Those would need to be removed.

Their hands moved together to free himself from his belt, his trousers, his boxer briefs. He dipped his head and took a pert breast into his mouth and sucked and hummed, flicking his tongue across the bud. Hermione was thrashing beneath him, lost in pleasure. “I can’t wait anymore.”

He positioned himself above her and swiftly complied with her request. Once inside of her he clamped his eyes shut, hissing at her tightness. Merlin, had he already forgotten what she felt like? He’d make sure never to forget again, if she still wanted him after tonight. He thrust into her silken pussy, panting into her neck.

“ _Oh gods_ , you feel like heaven,” he moaned.

She clutched at his back, anxious not to hurt him, but too lost in pleasure to be careful. To be here with him when she’d nearly lost him…he was a gift. With every thrust she was reminded at why he was worth the risk. “I love… _this_ so much,” she had come dangerously close to saying those three words she had been bursting with for the last few weeks.

Draco’s thrusting became more rough. He nibbled her earlobe and whispered hoarsely, “So do I. Merlin help me so do I. _So much_ Hermione.” His voice in her ear brought her over the edge, and as he joined her, their eyes met, unblinking, in understanding.

It was everything.

______________________________________

 

Afterwards as they lay on their bed, their skin hot and slick, their fingers lacing and unlacing together, Draco knew he had to tell her. Maybe she would hate him, but he had to give her a choice. If she was going to love him, as he thought she did, she would need to know what she was choosing. He breathed deeply to ready himself. “Hermione. I have to tell you something.” He saw worry in her eyes and it made everything so much harder. He took one of her hands in both of his and continued, “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?”

She nodded. “Why are you saying this?”

His nostrils flared. He grabbed his wand and pointed it to his left forearm, removing the glamour he had cast. The angry black ink stood in dangerous contrast to his porcelain skin. Hermione flinched at the sight, her face pulled into a grimace. She whispered, “Harry was right.”

He nodded. “I swear Hermione, I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was so _afraid_ I would lose you. That you’d…hate me.”

She felt like she’d been hit with a ton of concrete. The look in his eyes…there was a _brokenness_ there. She took his head in both of her hands. “I could never hate you. You didn’t ask for this.”

He sighed, so grateful for her faith in him. “They didn’t give me a choice. It was either this or he’d kill my mother.” He choked at the mention of her. He took another deep breath. “I couldn’t hold it in anymore, Hermione. I needed you to know because…because I’m in love with you and I couldn’t lie to you anymore.”

Her heart stopped. _He loved her._ She suspected as much, but to hear him say it…it was more than she ever imagined. “I love you too.”

He was flying over the moon. The woman he loved said she loved him back. He pulled her to him and kissed her, pouring his love into the kiss.

When they broke apart, she smiled at him so innocently. “Dumbledore could fix this. If you tell him, maybe he could—“

“He couldn’t.”

She looked confused at this. “Hermione, the Dark Lord gave me a task. You once asked me what I do in here when I’m not with you. There’s this…place that it becomes. People hide things there. And there’s a Vanishing Cabinet. It’s broken but I’ve been trying to fix it all year. I’ve almost done it, but I’m worried about what will happen once I do.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, Draco?”

“He’s planning something. An attack on the school. He wants to use the Cabinet as a passageway for Death Eaters.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Draco, you have _got_ to tell Dumbledore. He will under—“

“No! You don’t get it, Hermione. The Dark Lord wants me to _kill_ Dumbledore. If I don’t, he’ll murder my mother! I _can’t_ let that happen.”

She shook her head, refusing to believe it. This was her Draco who _loved_ her. He wasn’t capable of something like this. She breathed deeply, a moment of realization. “The mead. It was meant for Dumbledore.”

Draco nodded in confirmation. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt your friend, I swear.”

She felt manic. “What about that day in the bathroom? Harry said you tried to use an Unforgiveable on him. Was he telling the truth?”

Draco stared at her wildly, breathing heavily. “Yes, I tried, and in that moment I really _did_ want to hurt him, but Hermione, I swear I would _never_ have tried to kill him. That’s not who I am. You know that. Hermione, I lo—“

“Stop. I just…I need to think.” She scrambled to put her clothes on.

He looked up at her with reddened eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t have this conversation naked. I…I have to go.”

He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. “Hermione, _please_ just listen. I love you _so_ much, please, let me just—“

“ _Please_ Draco just give me some time to think about this.”

He realized he couldn’t force her to stay. He had just dropped a bomb on her and she needed some space. It pained him to do so, but he let her go.

As he watched her leave the room, he felt his heart tear in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know.
> 
> You're probably feeling at least a little upset, but PLEASE don't quit this story. It's not over yet.


	28. They'll Take Your Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione needs time to think. A misunderstanding occurs. Draco bares his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am overwhelmed by the love you all have sent me over this story! This being my first fic, I never thought it would go this far or have the following it has. Thank you all SO MUCH!!!
> 
> For those of you who don't know, I have another fic posted on this site too. It's another Dramione called "Hot for Teacher". Check it out if you like my style!

Draco had always known that after he confessed his dark Death Eater deeds to Hermione there was a possibility she might not be too keen on him. It still didn’t prepare him for the emptiness he felt when Hermione left him that night in the Room of Requirement. Now it had been a week and she hadn’t even looked at him.

Draco’s Slytherin gift for compartmentalization was failing him. Hermione was at the forefront of his mind and all he could think about was missing her. He had promised her he would never let anything ever come in between them again. He meant it. Even if she could stay away, he would wait. He would ache for her, until the minute she wanted him again, then he would be at her feet.

Aaaaand… _this_ is what it must feel like to be Pansy Parkinson.

He didn’t care. Damn it all, he loved her and that wasn't going to go away no matter what she decided. He just wished he knew what she was thinking. Were they still together?

What if they weren’t? What would he do then? Pretend everything with her had never happened, take up with the Death Eaters, and pray that he never found her on the other end of his wand?

No. That was impossible. There was no going back to his life before her.

Of course this meant he was living on borrowed time. But he developed a sort of zen in knowing that he would die, probably at the hands of his lunatic aunt after she tortured him into insanity. It just inspired him to protect his memories of Hermione cloaked in his mind where no one could reach. No one would take those from him. He would die knowing that she was the  _one_ good thing he did with his life.

In an attempt to distract himself from his loneliness, he busied himself with the Vanishing Cabinet, working virtually non-stop. He just wanted to be rid of the damn thing forever. Once it was finished, he would need to come up with a plan to protect Hermione. The Death Eaters were coming, and if she wouldn’t let him near her to keep her from harm, he’d have to work out another way to do it.

He hadn’t slept properly in almost a month. Not since that night Hermione snuck into the Infirmary to see him and spent the night. He felt manic. His insides were liquid and his brain was on fire. But he had a job to do and he couldn’t let a little thing like his deteriorating health and mental state stand in his way.

One morning on his way to breakfast, Draco heard a sound he naively hoped he had escaped forever.

“Draco, wait for _me_!” A high-pitched female voice rang through the corridor towards the Great Hall, causing Draco’s blood to freeze.

 _Oh what fresh hell is this?_  

“Draco, I’ve been _so worried_ about you. You shouldn’t go anywhere alone. Not with those _Gryffindors_ lurking around.”

Draco didn’t stop walking or turn around to face Pansy Parkinson as she clung to his arm like an oversized leech.

“Are you busy later? It’s been ages since we’ve been _alone_.” She bounced her eyebrows suggestively.

Draco scoffed. Even if he wasn’t hung up on Hermione, he still wouldn’t have the slightest desire to ever touch Pansy again. In the two minutes since she’d bounded towards him, he already found her presence grating. “Not interested.” He pried her off his arm.

“ _Draco Malfoy_ you will not just walk away from me. What did I do  _wrong_ _?_ ” She tugged on him even harder, throwing her arms around him and throwing him off balance.

She might be small, but she had that Pansy-on-a-mission strength and Draco actually struggled against her. As he attempted to be free of the simpering girl, he was put off guard as a figure bumped into his shoulder, pushing past him.

Pansy’s indignant screeching filled the corridor, “You watch where you’re going _Mudblood_!”

Draco’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the momentary contact between him and Hermione, even if it wasn’t quite the sort of contact he had been hoping for. He stared after her as she walked into the Great Hall, never turning back to see him staring wide-eyed after her.

_______________________________

 

Hermione had hardly slept since she left Draco in the Room of Requirement a week ago. She longed for him, but she couldn’t reconcile her feelings with the great big pile of fuck that came with loving a Death Eater.

Just going over the facts in her head made her nauseous. He would bring Death Eaters into the castle. They would hurt people. They would hurt her friends. He had tried to kill Dumbledore. He had nearly killed Ron.

Despite it all, she understood his reasons—or rather reason. He loved his mother. He did it to keep her alive.

What she _couldn’t_ understand was his resistance to accept her help. It could only mean that he didn’t trust her—that he didn’t believe that they had a chance at winning the war. How did he expect that the two of them could _possibly_ work if he wouldn’t follow her? She knew he would sooner burn himself alive than hurt her, but he might not have a choice because she would never stop fighting.

She had _finally_ , after six years of calling herself one, _actually_ become a Gryffindor. Beating the living hell out of a daft cow who accused her of stealing her boyfriend? Check. Falling in love with a Death Eater? Check. Stubbornly committing herself to fight in this war, even if it meant her certain death? Check. Letting the love of her young life go?

She couldn’t quite check that.

On her way to breakfast that morning she went over the different ways this could potentionally end. And then she saw something that set her teeth on edge.

Pansy Parkinson, that empty-headed two-Knut slut, was wrapped around Draco like a bad rash.

Hermione didn’t even register the fact that he was trying to free himself of her clutches. She was _pissed_. She hadn’t even properly broken up with him and there he was with that whinging slag all over him for everyone to see.

She saw red as she whizzed past them, making a point to bump into him as hard as she could.

_____________________________

 

Draco didn’t even try to stop himself from staring at Hermione all during breakfast. She didn’t look up once from her plate. Her face was red. She was fuming.

He was desperate for her to look up just once so he could somehow communicate how horribly she had misjudged the situation. How could she ever think he’d be interested in Pansy Parkinson after everything the two of them had shared together? He loved her. Didn’t she know that?

He followed her the instant she got up from her table, no longer worried about subterfuge. He had given her the space she needed. He had been patient. The time for radio silence was over. She _had_ to listen to him. He caught up to her and pulled her into a broom closet.

“What the _fuck_ , Malfoy?”

 _Malfoy?_ The sound of his surname sparked a cocktail of emotions within him. Fear, desperation, panic, anger.

“ _No_. No more, Hermione. You _will_ listen to me. I don’t know what you think you saw in the corridor but I can _assure_ you, you’ve got it all wrong.”

Hermione spoke with dangerous calm. “I was just surprised. After all, I haven’t even broken up with you yet and you already had that vapid little twat draped all over you.”

Draco couldn’t breathe. Hadn’t broken up with him _YET_? What did that mean? “Hermione…” he felt like he was going to pass out. “Are you breaking up with me?”

She gulped, unsure of what to say.

“Hermione…if you want to break up because you can’t handle what I am…then it will break my heart, but I’ll understand. But if it has _anything_ whatsoever to do with that _disgusting_ farce you saw in front of the Great Hall this morning, then believe me when I say you’re making a huge mistake. I tried to get her off me. I didn’t _ask_ for her attention. Every now and then Pansy gets it into her head that I’m somehow her property and she’ll put on some display like that to try and mark her territory. But I’m _taken_ Hermione. I’m yours _completely_.”

Hermione bit her bottom lip and stared at the floor. “I just…I wasn’t sure if you had moved on, or—“

“ _Never_.” He clasped her shoulders to make his point, forcing her to look up at him. “I would never to that to you. Did you think I was lying when I told you I loved you and that I’d never let anything ever come between us?”

She shook her head.

He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek in a tender caress. “I love you. That doesn’t go away just because you need time to think.”

A shadow of a smile appeared on her face. “I know. I love you too.”

 _Thank Merlin._ “This past week has been the worst I can remember. Worse than when Potter sent me to the Infirmary. I’m _barely_ holding it together.”

Hermione nodded, taking a deep breath. “Me too.”

“Then _please_ Hermione. Tell me how to make this right.”

His sincerity was devastating, but they still had a big problem. “Turn yourself in to Dumbledore. Let the Order hide your mother. Fight _with_ us.”

He wanted to. He really did. But he had seen what the Dark Lord could do. There was no fighting him. The only thing one could do was survive. “Hermione…you have _no idea_ what he’s capable of. I’ve seen him do things that…” he sighed. This past summer he had witnessed things that banished all traces of innocence and lingering childhood that he possessed. He didn't want to think about it. “You and I don’t have to be a part of this. We can just go away somewhere and—“

“ _No_ , Draco. I can’t just leave my friends to fight this war alone. If you think that I’d even _consider_ —“

“Do you _know_ what they’ll do to you? They won’t just kill you, Hermione. They’ll take _everything_ from you. They’ll take your fire, your light, your brilliant mind! Then they’ll rape the will to live out of you and _then_ …when you’re _finally_ broken... _then_ they’ll kill you. And they’ll make _me_ watch. I’ll be _powerless_ to stop them then. But I could keep you safe if you’d let me. I could _hide_ you if you’d just—“

“ _Enough_ , Draco!” She fixed him with a hard stare. “I think we’re done here." She turned to leave the closet, muttering under her breath, "So _fucking_  done.”

Once again, she was gone, leaving him to gape at her absence. “FUCK!!!!” he punched the wall, leaving bloody imprints of his knuckles on the stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, like you all, want them to end up together.


	29. It's Everything, But It's Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry have a row. Snape has a heart-to-heart with Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...yeah. I'm late on this. Easter weekened was insanity. Also I had sort of a revelation about this story which prompted me to change the ending, which is not far off now.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for all the love you've showered on this story! Writing this thing was a total experiment on my part to see if I was even kind of good at this, and all your comments, views, subscriptions, bookmarks, and kudos have given me the confidence to keep going and to expand my writing beyond this fic.

That witch would be the death of him. She was absolutely the most infuriating person on the planet. _Why_ did she have to choose now to go full on Gryffindor?

For the next few days Draco spoke to no one. He stayed up nearly all night working on the Vanishing Cabinet. That god-forsaken pile of sticks was so close to being out of his life he could taste it.

He whipped around the corner on his way to the Room, and crashed into… _something_ …what was that? There was nothing there... _wait._

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the air in front of him, grasping the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to the ground. “What in _Merlin’s fuck_ are you doing, Potter?”

“What are _you_ doing, Malfoy? After all this time, after everything you’ve been through with Hermione, you’re still doing some sort of creepy Death Eatery shit, aren’t you?”

Draco scoffed. “Why don’t you just do the world a favor and take a nice swift tumble down a fucking cliff?”

“Answer my question and tell me what the _fuck_ you’re doing?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you Potter! I don’t owe you anything. You nearly killed me, remember? And I did what you asked by the way. I told her about my…you know. And Hermione doesn’t want anything to do with me, so kindly get the _fuck_ out of—“

“Hermione broke up with you?”

Draco blinked. She had never said the words, but he was fairly certain she ended things that day in the broom closet. He hadn’t allowed himself to really think about it because he knew if he did, he’d probably throttle the four-eyed git and _this_ time he just might kill him--with his plethora of privacy-busting tools and his impertinent blunt questions. Reminding him that he had lost the best thing that ever happened to him.

Draco couldn’t say the words. He shut his eyes and shook his head. He. Would. _NOT_ cry in front of Harry “Why Won’t I Just Fucking Die Already” Potter. He breathed deeply to collect himself. “She made her choice. Did she not…tell you, or…” he shook himself. “You know what, never mind, Potter. I’m not about to talk to you about my broken love life.” He shoved Potter out of his way and continued walking towards his destination.

Harry called out to him, “So she came to her senses? I told her you were no good for her.”

Draco rounded on him, “Shut your _bloody_ mouth Potter! You have _no idea_ what that girl means to me. I _know_  that I’m not good enough for her, but I would do bloody _anything_ for her. It’s _you_ that’s been putting her in harm’s way all these years, making her think that she has to sacrifice herself for some greater good!” He shoved Harry. “ _You’re_ the one who doesn’t care enough about her to do what’s necessary. All you care about is honing your bloody hero complex! She is the _one good thing_ there is in this fucked up disaster of a world! She would lay down her life for you and you’d bloody _let_ her! Say what you want about me, but I would walk through fire for her.”

Harry stood, dumbfounded at the emotional wreck of a boy before him. He never imagined the ice-cold Slytherin was capable of such emotion.

“Just go on back to your Common Room, Potter. And maybe thank whatever fucking joke of a deity that seems to be eternally on your side that you have a friend like Hermione Granger. Because you don’t deserve her either.”

___________________________________

 

“I ran into Malfoy today.”

Hermione raised her head at Harry’s mention of the boy. She hated that just hearing his name sent a whooping sensation in her stomach. “Oh?”

“He told me you broke up with him. He seemed _bloody_ torn up about it too. I thought he was going to cry.”

Hermione sighed deeply. “He didn’t leave me with a choice. And before you start, you should know I didn’t break up with him because he’s a Death Eater. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just an ugly tattoo. I broke up with him because I couldn’t be with him and fight in this war. Harry…he doesn’t believe we can win. He tried to convince me to…to _run away_ with him or something equally unthinkable. All he cares about is—“

“You. All he cares about is you, Hermione.”

Hermione blinked at Harry. She said nothing for a while before speaking in a small voice, “Are you on glue or did you just actually stick up for Draco Malfoy?”

Harry chuckled. “Look. I hate the bastard. I think he’s a slimy, conceited, entitled prick. But there is one thing about him that I trust.”

“What’s that?”

“He loves you. You should have heard him today. I’ve never seen anyone so… _sincere_ in their intentions. It was bizarre.”

Hermione’s eyes softened. “I know." She sighed. "But he’s a coward.”

“Maybe. But he’s not scared for himself, Hermione. I doubt he gives a rat’s arse about his own life right now. It’s _you_ he’s scared for. And he made some good points about…never mind.”

Hermione bit her lip. “Do you have a point or are you just trying to upset me?"

Harry sighed. “I told him he had to tell you the truth about the Death Eater thing because I thought you deserved a choice. A real one. You never make any decision without having all the facts. I guess I just…thought you should know about this too. That’s all.”

Hermione nodded. She could feel her eyes burn for what seemed like the thousandth time since she had ended things with Draco. “Thank you.” She gave him a small smile. “You’re a good friend, Harry.”

Harry smiled sadly, remembering Draco’s words. “Not nearly good enough.”

____________________________

 

“ _Concentrate!_ ” Snape screeched at him. “You’re sloppy today.”

Draco scowled. “Yeah well, I’d make an excuse as to why, but you’ve been inside my head today. You already know.”

Snape pursed his lips. “As fascinating as your love life is, Draco, I am more concerned with helping you _survive_. That is why you’re here, is it not?”

Draco chuckled darkly. “For someone who can see everything, you certainly don’t pay attention do you Uncle Sev?” He sighed. “I don’t give a flying fuck about my own skin anymore.”

Snape pursed his lips. “I did not take you for unintelligent, Draco. You’re beginning to sound remarkably like Potter.”

Draco rounded on him. “Take that back.”

“I call it like I see it,” Snape answered evenly.

“Then get your eyesight checked, old man, because I’m _nothing_ like that overrated cunt.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Do you forget that I am your teacher as well as your godfather? Although neither position merits your speaking to me in such an impertinent manner. Do you not realize that I am taking time out of my already tensely packed schedule to assist you in an endeavor about which you apparently no longer care?”

Draco shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I’m sorry, Uncle Sev. I appreciate what you’re doing for me. And you’re wrong. I do care about this.”

“Then why do you treat your own life with such flippant disregard?”

Draco exhaled deeply. “I’m here...for _her_. That’s it. That’s all this ever was. I don’t matter.”

Snape’s lips disappeared into a thin line. “I assume that by ‘ _her_ ’ you mean Miss Granger, and not your mother.”

“My mother will be safe as long as I can just complete this god-forsaken task. After that, I’m done.”

Snape closed his eyes and breathed a moment. “Draco, whether or not you ‘give a flying fuck about your own skin’ as you so Potterifically put it, there are others who _do_ care. Your mother for starters. Myself, even. You do not understand the sacrifices we have made to protect you.”

“I never asked you to—“

“I don’t _care_ what you asked for, boy! I made your mother a promise and I intend to follow through on it.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at his godfather. “What did you do?”

Snape drew himself up. “Draco…I’m not certain you truly understand the effect that taking the life of another person has upon the human soul. You are young, and currently untainted, though you may argue otherwise. In all the ways that matter, you are still innocent.”

Draco shook his head. “Just tell me what you did, Uncle Sev.”

“I promised your mother that if you could not murder Dumbledore, I would do it for you. And it is my full intention that it will be _I_ , not you, who will perform this act.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “You can’t just—“

“I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco. And my soul has been compromised many times over in my life. You still have a _chance_!” Snape became impassioned in a way Draco had never seen. “You can be _happy_ , Draco. You can even be with _her_ if you want to be.”

Draco’s breath hitched. He forced down a tear. “Why do you care?”

Snape sighed lightly. “I lost someone very dear to me once. Someone…someone I might have been happy with had I made different choices. I don’t want to see that happen to you, Draco.”

Draco furrowed his brows at his godfather. Not for the first time, he wondered who this mysterious man, who he had known as “Uncle Sev” his entire life, really was. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Unable to fight it any longer, a single, hot tear ran down his face. He swallowed deeply. “I just want to keep her safe,” he said, his voice croaky with tears. “It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t want me anymore if I can just do this one thing for her.”

Snape sighed. “I know exactly how you feel. But believe me when I say, Draco that no matter how much you love her, no matter how much you’re willing to sacrifice for her, there may come a time when it’s not enough.”


	30. I Stole Happiness With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a plan.

Draco sighed deeply as he observed the product of his labors. “Done,” he whispered into the lonely expanse of the room. “All done.” After a year of slaving over the Vanishing Cabinet, he had finally succeeded in repairing it.

Victory never tasted so bitter.

_Hermione._

He had a plan.

_Hermione._

Even if he survived this, she’d never forgive him.

_Hermione._

It was all he could think of these days, keeping her safe. He wished he had an option that left him a sliver of a hope that she wouldn’t hate him for the rest of her days. But it was more important to him that she _had_ a rest of her days to hate him _with_.

“Goodbye, Hermione,” he whispered as he scribbled the note he desperately wished he didn’t have to send.

______________________________

 

_I have something I need to show you. Please meet me in our Room?_

_\--Draco_

 

She sighed as she read the note. Perhaps this was just a ploy to get her alone so he could beg her to take him back, but she knew that was unlikely. Even if it was, she should see him anyway. She was worried about him.

He hadn’t been in classes in over a week. When she did catch glimpses of him in the Great Hall he looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. That happy boy on the broomstick who swooped down and kissed her so passionately, his heart full of love and light, was gone. He now looked like a shell. Those eyes which once carried a mischievous glint were now hollow, unsettling, and covered in dark circles. The handsome face which previously wore a perpetual smirk had the pallor of a corpse. The air of casual grace and charismatic arrogance with which he once carried himself was replaced by an alarming lack of presence.

As she made her way to the Room, she sighed inwardly at the realization that this probably had something to do with the Vanishing Cabinet Draco was trying to fix. Every time she thought about the impossible situation he had been forced into, her heart broke for him.

The loving him thing…that didn’t just disappear.

_When will it stop?_

She approached the wall where the door to their Room usually appeared and was startled to find that the door which manifested was not one she had ever seen before. She opened the door tentatively and entered the Room. “Oh, my…”, she gasped.

The Room was full to bursting of every conceivable type of junk and treasure one could imagine. She realized, with more than a bit of curiosity, that this Room probably held artifacts from all the way back to the time of the Founders.

“Draco?”

When he appeared from around a corner she tried to tame the butterflies in her stomach at seeing him this near. His eyes held a momentary hint of warmth at seeing her, and a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“You came.”

She nodded.

“I wasn’t sure you would.”

She looked down at her feet, trying to avoid the broken look in his eyes. “You said you have something you need to show me.”

He nodded, motioning for her to follow him. He hoped he was putting on a brave face because he felt anything but. All he wanted to do was throw himself at her feet and beg with everything he had for her to run away with him. But his stubborn Gryffindor would never agree to that. Not when she had actually wanted him. Not now that he was nothing to her. Not ever.

“This is it.”

She examined the Vanishing Cabinet with interest. “It’s bigger than I thought it would be. Is it finished?”

He nodded.

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I take it this means you haven’t asked me here to tell me you changed your mind.”

He smiled sadly. “You have no idea how much I wish that were the case.”

“Then why did you bring me here? Surely not just to look at a tacky hunk of furniture.”

He shrugged. “I wanted you to know that I had finished it so that…” he gulped, “so that…you could have some warning.”

Her eyes turned cold. “Because you’re letting Death Eaters into the castle?”

He sighed. “I don’t want to do this, Hermione.”

“Then _don’t_.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“You only say that because you won’t let it be.”

He shook his head. “Hermione, if it weren’t for my mother—“

“—I _know_. You don’t have to…” she squeezed her eyes shut and collected herself. “When?”

“Soon.” He slumped against the Cabinet facing her. “You know I regret most everything I’ve done, Hermione? I’m not like you. I don’t have a long list of things I’m proud of. But the one thing I don’t regret is flirting with you that day in the library.”

Hermione bit the inside of her jaw to keep from betraying how his words affected her.

“I was never supposed to fall for you, Hermione. Merlin knows it would have been better for you if I had just walked right past you in the library and never spoken to you. But being near you…loving you…it’s the only thing that’s given me even a moment of calm.”

Hermione sobbed, unable to look at him. “Why?” she asked, her voice heavy. “Why did you let me love you if you were just going to run away?”

He sighed. “I was high off you, Hermione. When I was with you I got to be someone else. Someone happy. I couldn’t just give that up. I’m a selfish bastard who stole happiness with you rather than let you be with someone even half-way worthy of you.”

She finally turned to him, her face full of tears. She noted the pained expression at seeing her cry. He always hated to see her cry. “You did this, Draco. You made this mess knowing that you wouldn’t be here to clean it up.”

He nodded. “I’m not a good person, Hermione.” He walked over closer to her and put his arms around her. She didn’t struggle. She was too focused on his eyes. They had a resolve she had never seen in them before. “I asked you here because things might go badly for me tonight.” He cupped her face in his hand. “I needed to see you again. Just us. No one else.”

She nodded. “I wish you weren’t such a coward.”

He smiled sadly. “So do I.” He kissed her lightly on the lips and she felt a warmth at the familiarity and _rightness_ of it.

Only then did Hermione feel his wand jab her in the ribs.

“ _Petrificus Totalus._ ” She fell to the floor with a thud.

He looked down at her with a heavy heart. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

_________________________

 

After carrying her seemingly lifeless body to the nearest cupboard and tucking her away where no one could find her, he took a moment to bury his head in his hands.

_It’s over now. Really over. She’ll never forgive this._

It had been selfish to steal a kiss from her, but he couldn’t help himself. If tonight was to be his last night on Earth, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t take one last kiss with him. The jinx wouldn’t last long, however. Only an hour or so. It should be enough time, but he needed to act quickly.

He brought his wand to his left forearm, signaling to those bastards on the other side of the Cabinet that everything was in order.

He bristled as the door swung open and out came his Uncle Rodolphus, followed by the Carrow twins, Greyback, his absolutely bat-shit crazy Aunt Bellatrix, and to his great surprise…his father. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to make certain you don’t squander this opportunity,” Lucius replied coldly.

Draco fixed him with a hard glare. “It’s _very_ tempting, Father. You have _no_ idea. But as long as Mother lives, I’m still your son.”

Lucius smiled cruelly. “See that you don’t forget that.”

_______________________________

 

It was so fucking cold.

 

She’d kill him once she got out.

 

How long she’d been there in that dark place, she had no idea. It seemed like days, but it was probably only an hour or so.

 

Never should have trusted him.

 

Had she the ability to do so, she could have laughed at remembering the Sorting Hat’s words all those years ago.

 

_Every bit as loyal as Hufflepuffs. Just choosey about who deserves their loyalty. Still afraid, lassie?_

 

 

To whom was he really loyal? Was he fooling himself that he was doing this for her?

 

_What was that?_ A flutter of a nerve in her left leg. It wasn’t much, but it was the beginning.

It grew and grew and spread throughout her body. She felt warmth and life again.

She coughed as she regained full use of her lungs. Her stomach lurched and she vomited violently. As she spit the foul taste of her stomach acid into the dark around her, she glared at the memory of the strange resolve she saw in his eyes just before he jinxed her--the look in his eyes when he kissed her.

Patting down her clothing, she sighed with relief as she found her wand. He’d left that for her.

 

_Still afraid, lassie?_

 

“Hell fucking no,” she said aloud as she reduced the cupboard to a pile of splinters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am painfully aware that this is so. Much. ANGST! Like... Order of the Phoenix level angst times ten. I PROMISE that soon I will end this madness for you guys. Just a little longer.


	31. Three Avadas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe it's over. This has been a WILD ride and I'm touched that so many of you have come along for it. I hope you all enjoy this.

This was so fucking surreal. Standing here in front of Dumbledore after all these months was something he had half-believed would never happen. It wasn’t exactly the sort of victory he reveled in, especially since the dotty old fart just sat there fucking _smiling_ at him like that.

“Draco, my boy. I see you’ve managed to put your lessons in Arithmancy to use,” Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling. “As an educator, it always thrills me to learn that the students here at Hogwarts find they’re getting the most out of our fine institution.”

Draco was so impatient he could have spit. Time was wasting and he needed to wrap this up before Hermione woke up. That sick fuck Greyback would love nothing more than to find the witch alone in the castle. That _couldn’t_ happen.

“And now you’re here to kill me.” He sighed. “I must say, Draco. Talented though you may be in Arithmancy, you could have benefited greatly from a class in strategy. A cursed necklace, _really_?”

Draco gaped. “I’m about to kill you, you doddering fool and all you can think to do is insult my intelligence?”

“Draco will not be killing anyone today,” a cold voice drawled.

Dumbledore sighed with relief. “Severus. I can honestly say I’ve never been more thrilled to see you.”

“I wish I could say the same, Albus.”

The two men looked at each other with mutual respect and more than a bit of sadness.

“Are you ready, Albus?”

Dumbledore nodded. “I am. But first could I implore one of you to be a dear and feed Fawkes after this? I forgot before I made my way up here and he must be positively _beside_ himself with hunger right about now.”

You could have knocked Draco over with a feather. “For the _actual sake of fuck_ , what is _wrong_ with you?”

“Such a temper on this one, eh, Severus? You must watch that, my boy. Miss Granger herself has a stubborn disposition which will likely become even more so through the years. She will not tolerate outbursts such as that, so if you hope to live peacefully with her, one of you must compromise. And as a fellow Gryffindor, I can tell you that it will not be her.”

Draco’s head reeled. “You’re. About. _To die_ , you absolute _lunatic_. Why are you giving me advice on my love life? And how the _fuck_ do you know about Hermione and I?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Draco, I know your mother raised you with better manners than that.”

“Well I can’t very well kill him when he’s going on about feeding his bloody chicken and giving me advice on how to please a woman who will probably never even speak to me again.”

“You will not be the one, Draco,” Dumbledore interrupted. “Severus and I have discussed this.”

Draco felt the familiar throb of a vein in his temple pulsing. He was also assaulted with a surge of empathy for Potter, which he did _not_ care for. If Potter has had to deal with this all these years, no wonder he’s such a _fantastic_ arsehole. He turned to his godfather. “I almost _want_ to do it myself now.”

“You had better be getting back to your father and his friends before Miss Granger wakes up,” Dumbledore warned.

Draco could have pulled his hair out. He shut his eyes and seethed. “Why are you doing this? Why do you care?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Because Draco, your heart is a good one despite what you may otherwise think. You have had to steal the chances you’ve had to cultivate it with Miss Granger. The life of an old man who’s seen entirely too much of this world for the life of a boy in love—it’s a small price to pay, don’t you think?”

Draco’s eyes burned. The fury he felt towards the old man throbbed and underneath it all he was stunned. How could anyone think he was worth this? He would never be enough for Hermione, no matter what Dumbledore thought.

Dumbledore nodded to Snape. “Do it now, Severus.”

Snape raised his wand. “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

________________________

 

Draco was out. He was decided. He would have nothing more to do with his father and those like him. Dumbledore was dead. The Death Eaters had their Hogwarts entrance…his mother’s life was safe.

Dumbledore, that miserable old fool, was dead. Draco might not have killed him, but he was certainly dead now because of him.

How did Draco feel about it? It was fucking _embarrassing_ , wasn’t it? That a man like Dumbledore, a beacon of goodness and bravery, would believe Draco was worth dying for—it was laughable. Draco _almost_ laughed at the thought. But he couldn’t dwell on it for too long. He needed to make sure Hermione was still safe. He’d jinx her again if he had to. It would be a small thing after the surreal experience he just had in the Astronomy Tower.

_________________________

 

Hermione busted through the doors of the Room of Requirement and ran down the corridor. What were the odds that her friends were still tucked safely away in the Common Room? How would she find them?

Turns out it actually wasn’t that hard. All she had to do was follow the sounds of carnage and she found Harry, Ron, and Ginny buried in the thick of it. All three of them were trying to take on Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bellatrix’s wicked face twisted into recognition at Hermione’s arrival to the scene. She cast a bored _Incarcerous_ and Harry, Ron, and Ginny found themselves bound by invisible ropes, unable to move. “I thought I smelled mud.” All thoughts of torturing the other three vanished as she leered at Hermione. “You’re a bit late aren’t you, you filthy little bitch? Where have you been hiding?”

Hermione held her wand steady and narrowed her eyes at the older woman. _You can’t make any mistakes. She’s not fucking around._ Hermione trusted her brain, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough in this situation. Would she be quick enough? Could she be cold enough to do what was necessary?

Bellatrix's eyes widened as she pointed her wand at Hermione. “You _disgusting_ little whore. You seduced my nephew. How _dare_ you bring him to your level? You’ve _ruined_ him!”

Shit. Hermione hadn’t counted on Bellatrix being a Legilimens. She breathed heavily as she steadied herself.

Bellatrix sneered. “Do you think he’ll just _abandon_ his family, his name, his inheritance, for you? You are _nothing_ , Mudblood.” She cackled wickedly. “You’re _pathetic_ if you think he’ll ever care about you. You’re just a little slut! A warm hole for him to fill and he’ll _never_ —“

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Hermione panted heavily as the dark-haired witch fell to the ground, her evil eyes glinting wildly.

She just killed someone.

_It was either you or her._

She just killed Bellatrix Lestrange.

_You had no choice._

Hermione couldn’t lie to herself very convincingly. Yes, Bellatrix Lestrange was a psychopathic bitch who would have killed her without batting an eyelash. But that wasn’t _it_ for Hermione.

_Was she right? About Draco? Would he have ever chosen me?_

“Hermione?”

She looked up and found Harry, Ron, and Ginny gaping at her.

“Hermione?” Ron said again. “Are you alright?” He looked quite shaken himself—conflicted even. Hermione knew it was partly out of concern for her, partly him attempting to process all the things Bellatrix said. _Incarcerous_ kept you from moving. It didn’t affect your ability to hear.

She nodded. “I feel…” she swallowed. “Am I supposed to feel remorse?” She looked down at the dead witch at her feet.

_Good._

“I don’t.”

“Congratulations, Miss Granger on your first kill.” The four friends shivered as a cold drawl interrupted their combined reverie. “Although I _must_ say, I doubt you’ll get so lucky a second time,” Lucius Malfoy said, flicking his wand and sending Ron, Harry, and Ginny to the ground, unable to move. His lips curved into a slow smile as he pointed his wand at Hermione. “Now that the children are asleep, the grownups can play.”

________________________________

 

Draco ran through the halls, ignoring the screams and sounds of the battle around him. He needed to get to her _now_. He hoped he wasn’t too late. As he made his way to the seventh floor corridor he paused as recognized the long, white-blond hair of his father, his back turned to Draco. Potter, Weasley, and the She-Weasel were passed out on the floor next to his aunt, who was apparently…

Draco’s eyes widened at the sight of her dark, empty eyes staring lifelessly into the distance. _Ding, dong. The wicked witch is dead_. Who the fuck was responsible for that? He’d be sure to send them a Christmas card.

“Now that the children are asleep, the grownups can play,” he heard his father say.

“What makes you think I can’t kill you too?” a shaky, feminine voice asked.

_Hermione? Oh, God no, no, no, no, NO!_

Draco approached. “Father? What are you doing?”

“Ah, Draco. Come and see what I’ve caught.”

His blood turned to ice in his veins. “It’s over, Father. Dumbledore’s dead. Your master got what he wanted. Just let her go.”

“Why would I do that?”

Draco fumed. “Is this who you are? Do you get off on torturing innocent school girls for fun?”

“ _Hardly_ innocent, my son. This one just sent your dear aunt to hell.”

Draco’s head reeled. Hermione _killed_ Aunt Bellatrix? _Sweet fucking Merlin, how did she do that?_

“Then of course there is the small matter that she spent the past several months playing the whore for you. You should know better than anyone that she is not _innocent_ , Draco.”

Hot bile boiled in the pit of his stomach. He knew. His father knew. He couldn’t even summon the curiosity to wonder _how_ he knew, so concerned was he for the girl on the other end of his father’s wand. Lucius Malfoy meant business if he knew that his son had sullied his pristine, squeaky-clean blood by burying himself in the body of a muggleborn.

“Of course, I don’t begrudge you your fun, Draco. She _is_ rather pretty. But I am quite disappointed in just how far you seem to have taken your amusement with the girl.”

“Father…” he choked. “Please just—“

“You might be a gifted Occlumens Draco, but the girl is not. I can see inside her foolish little mind that she thinks she loves you. And that you…reciprocate these feelings. Now why would she think that, Draco?” His tone was light, but Draco knew better. This was Lucius at his most angry. This was the calm before the storm.

 _Be careful. He’ll kill her in a heartbeat if he knows what she means to you._ “She’s just…she’s just a good fuck, Father.”

He saw Hermione’s face contort in hurt and anger at his words. He wished he could communicate with her. _It’s a lie, Hermione. You know that. Please know that. I love you._ _Always love you._

“Such a good fuck that you saw fit to hide her away while the rest of her friends fought and died for their pathetic little cause? Really, Draco. The world is full of ‘good fucks.’ You won’t miss this one.”

Draco panted, all hope of composure gone. His tactic wasn’t working. Perhaps there was a part of his father that had an _ounce_ of compassion and love for his son. “Father…please. Just let her go. I’ll do anything.”

Lucius's eyes turned stormy. “And there it is.” Lucius sneered maliciously. “You think you _love_ this foul creature? How very disappointing, Draco. I did not raise you to take up with your inferiors.”

Draco seethed. “Inferior? You and I are not worthy to breath the same air as her and you call _her_ inferior?”

Lucius’s eyes flashed. Throughout this interlude with his son he had not taken his eyes off Hermione. He glared at the muggleborn girl as he smirked cruelly. “You know I cannot allow her to live, Draco. Not when she has corrupted my family so thoroughly the way her kind have corrupted wizards for centuries.”

Draco raised his wand at his father. “I won’t let you.”

Lucius chuckled. “You have done a _marvelous_ job on my son, Mudblood. You certainly _must_ be a good fuck if he will wield a wand against his own father for you. Sadly, he is no longer any son of mine. _Avada_ —“

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Lucius Malfoy’s eyes widened ever so slightly just before he slumped and hit the floor. As he felt life leave his body he turned to face his only son, whose wand was still poised in the air, thrumming from the powerful magic it had just performed.

“So disappointing,” he uttered as his eyes closed.

Hermione found her breath again. Her face was almost expressionless as warm, bountiful tears spilled from her eyes. She looked at Draco, whose face was equally expressionless. “D-Draco…” she gasped. “You…you _killed_ —“

“—I promised you I’d never let anything come between us.”

 

He never did.

 

_________________________________

 

EPILOGUE

_One year later…_

 

Draco frowned bitterly as he waited for his mother outside the courtroom. He, Hermione, and Potter had just testified in her defense at her trial before the Wizengamont. Luckily she was spared Azkaban, having been found to be more victim than villain in the Dark Lord’s schemes. Still, Draco hadn’t spoken to her since his father’s death. She probably still hadn’t forgiven him.

“Draco.”

He turned around to find his mother standing before him. She looked thin and tired, but she still held herself with grace and dignity. “You’re looking well,” she said.

He struggled with what to say to her. “House arrest for one year isn’t so terrible, Mother. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Everything?” She raised a cool eyebrow. “What if I needed my son back?”

He swallowed. “You know what means, Mother.”

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “So you’re still hung up on that muggleborn girl?”

“That _muggleborn girl_  is part of the reason you won't rot away in Azkaban. And you know her name, Mother.”

“I know her name. The question is, do you know yours?”

Draco laughed bitterly. “You are unbelievable. I’m _happy_. Isn’t that what mothers are supposed to want for their sons?”

“I want my family back Draco.” 

"Well you can’t have it, Mother, because as you obviously haven’t forgotten, I killed the only family you seem to care about.”

Her face fell. “That isn’t fair.”

“A lot of things aren’t fair. Nothing about any of this was ever fair. It certainly wasn't fair that at sixteen I had to join Father on his and his master’s ridiculous quest to own the world, but I did it anyway-- for you.”

“I know, Draco. You always were a good son.”

“Apparently not good enough.”

She sniffed the air indignantly. “Don’t you want a family, Draco?”

“I have one.” His eyes found Hermione’s from across the room. She gave him a small smile, her eyes full of concern. She knew he had been dreading this discussion with his mother. Dreading it and needing it. He returned her smile. “Which brings me to a question I’ve been needing to ask you about Grandmama Black’s ring.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened in an uncharacteristic display of mild emotion. “You can’t honestly mean to _marry_ her, Draco. You’re just a child. You haven’t thought this through.”

“I stopped being a child the moment I let that sick, noseless fuck put this mark on my arm. I _have_ thought this through, Mother. Thoroughly.”

“But your children will be half-bl—“

“—If mine and Hermione’s children turn out to be even a _fraction_  as brilliant as her, then they will be more of a credit to the Malfoy name than anyone has been in centuries. This is happening, Mother.”

Narcissa looked into her son’s eyes and saw that he would not be swayed. She couldn’t stop him. He was, after all, of age and the head of the Malfoy house now. “If you are dead set on marrying this girl then I won’t try to stop you, no matter how foolish I think you are being. But must you bring my mother’s ring into this?”

He looked across the room at Hermione. She looked at him questioningly and mouthed “ _Are you okay?_ ” He smiled at her and nodded. “That beautiful, brilliant girl you see across the room talking to the prat in the glasses is going to be your daughter. She’s going to be a part of _your_ family too. I can’t think of a better use for Grandmama Black’s ring than to put it on her finger.”

Narcissa’s expression softened as she watched her son’s face staring at Miss Granger. _My son is in love. Truly in love._ She didn’t think Lucius ever looked at her the way Draco looked at the muggleborn girl. She sighed. “I suppose I’ll need to redecorate the Manor.”

Draco turned to her, his face full of light. “Does that mean you approve?”

“I never said that, Draco. However, I will agree to make an attempt with Miss Granger. After all, it doesn’t seem like I can escape her.”

Draco smiled. Narcissa marveled at the expression he now wore so easily. _He’s been spending too much time with Gryffindors._

“Thank you,” he said, kissing her cheek.

Narcissa brought a hand up to cup Draco’s face. “I know I’ve failed you in many ways my son. But please understand that there was never a time when I didn’t believe I was doing what was best for you.”

“I know.”

Narcissa smiled sadly. “Your father and I, we—“ She nearly choked. Thinking about Lucius was always difficult. She understood now that Lucius had signed his own death warrant the moment he took up with that half-blood megalomaniac and that Draco had no choice but to do what he did, but he was still her husband. They had still had some good years in there—a long time ago.

“Mother,” Draco took her hand in his, trying to comfort her.

Narcissa waived it off. “You are a man now, Draco. And although your life is not what I thought it would be, I’m…proud. Of you.”

It was all he needed to hear.

__________________________________

 

Hermione worried her lip as she watched Draco and his mother. She knew he had been worried about speaking to her after all this time. After that night over a year ago when he killed Lucius, his mother disowned him. Although, as the Malfoy heir, the Manor (along with the money, the estate, and the whole kit and caboodle) was his, his mother refused to acknowledge him as her son any longer. It broke Hermione’s heart to see Draco so distressed. She knew he cared more about his mother than any of the rest of that shite. After the Final Battle it looked like the two would finally reconcile, but she had been temporarily hauled off to Azkaban before they really had a chance to talk.

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he approached. “Everything alright?”

He gathered her in his arms. “Yes,” he said before planting a light kiss on her lips. Harry rolled his eyes as he looked away, never quite having gotten used to these displays of affection between the two of them. “Everything’s perfect.”

She smiled. “Does she still hate me for taking you away?”

He laughed. “Probably but she’ll get over it.” He turned to Potter. “Thank you for defending her in there.”

Harry waived it off. “I wasn’t just blowing smoke. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Draco nodded, throwing his arm around Hermione and pulling her to him. He placed a sweet kiss on her temple. “My mother wants to meet you.”

Hermione’s face fell. Having a cuppa with Narcissa Malfoy was not exactly a high priority on the list of things she _definitely_ wanted to do, but she knew there was no way to avoid it. She had every intention of holding onto that woman’s son for dear life. She’d never let go if she could help it.

Nevertheless that didn’t stop her from rolling her eyes and scoffing. “If I must.”

Draco chuckled as he examined the girl who would soon be his fiancé. “I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave,” he teased.

“I am brave, you prat. That doesn’t mean I have to look forward to meeting your mother.”

He rolled his eyes. “Merlin, she’s going to _love_ you.”

He smiled as he took her small hand in his. For the first time in his entire life, he had no complaints. Not a single one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to each and every one of you!
> 
> If you liked this, please check out my other fic, "Hot for Teacher." It's also about to come to a close, as I wrote these two pieces concurrently. However, there will be a sequel for "Hot for Teacher" coming out soon.


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